A Grease Monkey's Tale
by LoveInChains
Summary: "Do you know what it's like, not knowing who you are?" Brooke-Lynn Winston Summers has known love and has known loss. She's known several things in her tragic life. But when "tall, dark, and brooding" is back in town and she starts to feel that void of loss closing she realizes that a heart can heal, and so can her spirit. Derek/OC
1. Prologue: The Road Less Traveled

**Grease Monkey**

**Prologue: The Road Less Traveled**

_The day she didn't even think was possible._**  
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* * *

It was a stressing thing, getting over the death of a loved one. Downright painful and depressing if you asked me. I mean, I was having a pretty tough time with it. Nearly ten months since I lost Him and I still have a hard time facing it. I still worked at His dads gas station, His dads garage, and I had yet to take any of His stuff out of our… my… one-story. I even kept some of our day-to-day habits. Every night I ran the trail that we used to run together, the trail we discovered when we moved to Beacon Hills after High School. At the time, I had no idea why he wanted to live in such a hum drum town. It was even smaller than my hometown. But, I knew, deep down. He wanted to go back because He wanted to reconnect. It's where his dad and step-mom live.

His mom left his dad when He was young. Plus, from what He remembered, Beacon Hills was a really nice town. Nice people, nice schools, nice neighborhood, and a nice place to start a family. That was our plan, to start a family. Well, we don't always get what we want, do we? Sadly, that's life. It sucks. And here I am, bitching about a life I'll never have when the life I'll end up living is so much more chaotic, extraordinary, and absolutely unbelievable. You, truly, don't know what the worlds capable of until you take that road less traveled… do I regret it? Taking that road less traveled? You can bet your sweet ass I do.

There I was, alone in my living room, staring at the bare wall in front of me, shoveling strawberry ice cream into my mouth. In other words, I was severely bored. I was lounging on my couch with Kipper underneath my arm. Kipper's my faithful Jack Russell Terrier-Beagle. Always there when my shoes needed an extra hole in them, always peeing on the floor when it needs to be cleaned, and always keeping me company when I slept alone in that huge bed. He knew I had a hard time when He died so he picked up the slack by being extra affectionate.

I don't know how dogs know these things, but they just do. I placed my little pint of ice cream on the coffee table I made out of four tires, half a dozen nails, and a plank of wood. Kipper whined as I stood, missing my company already. I reached my arms up, hands clasping the cuffs of my blue flannel, stretching my back, arms, and shoulders since sitting there like a lump really can cause a girl to ache.

As I stretched, the last button on my old flannel popped off, "Fuck." I muttered. I never did learn how to sow so either I'd suck it up and wear the shirt as-is or throw it out.

While my sisters all learned to be the perfect wives, I learned how to replace a transmission with my toes from His brothers. Slight exaggeration. After fiddling with my shirt for a few seconds I decided it was about time for my moonlight run. As I said before, I still did that, every night. I walked into my bedroom, shedding the buttonless flannel and the denim shorts I was wearing as Kipper yipped at my ankles. Wearing nothing but my white sports bra and boy cut blacks I picked up my little puppy; I let him lick my nose before I placed him on my bed. He sat there, like a good boy, but his tail wagged a mile a minute.

He wanted to go running with me. If it was light out, I would've totally been up for that, but it was nearly midnight and I wasn't comfortable not being able to see my baby boy (I don't believe in leashes). I gave him a sad smile before retrieving a pair of black knit shorts, some socks, and my hole invested Chuck Taylor's. The shorts were His, but, again, I couldn't bring myself to get rid of anything He owned. I slipped them on and rolled them to fit. I took my hair out of the fishtail I had it in and tied it into an intricate knot so my waist length black hair was out of my face. Then I grabbed my arm holster for my iPod, grabbed the actual iPod, well, iPhone, and I was ready to go.

I headed towards the front door causing Kipper to whine from my bedroom, "I'll be back in an hour." I called to him, did a quick check of his food and water levels, all was well and I was set. I opened the door with a bit of a spring in my step, shut it, locked it, and I started to run while turning on some Ellie Goulding to get me in the mood. Her techno beats were all that got me up anymore.

My run was as liberating as usual, the cascading sweat, the smell of pine as I ran through the woods and the cold September wind in my face. Everything was as it should be. I looked to my right and I could almost feel Him there. But of course He wasn't. He'd never be there again. I exhaled at my hopelessness and just kept running. I ran past several familiar rocks, I even ran past one of those trees that every teenager would write, 'So-and-so + so-and-so 4E'. Being in one of those high school romances I knew how good it felt to claim something was forever and even to write it somewhere where it _would_, indeed, last forever.

Being an adult who lost their soul mate, things like that just brought tears to my eyes.

The feeling burned my eyes as a different sensation burned in my legs. When the burning in my calves became too much I collapsed against a tree, breathing heavily, dried tears in the corners of my eyes. I had only been running for 45 minutes, or so, but I was running faster than usual. Running away from my past, I guess. I checked my watch to confirm that I had been running… for an entire hour already. Hope Kipper didn't learn how to tell time. If he had then he would've been pissed.

I looked up to what was in front of me, the trail back to my house, the trail that went deeper into the woods before coming back to my house, and one I hadn't really noticed before. Now, in the light of a nearly full moon, I could see a clear, but slightly faded, path. I was about to head back home when I decided to throw caution to the wind and travel that abandoned path. Perhaps it was one of those long forgotten trails. Perhaps I'd receive enlightenment after traveling it. Well, I was about to find out. I turned up my music and ran. I ran with no inhibitions.

That abandoned path was littered left and right with garbage, debris, and cigarette butts. It was disgusting. And I thought to myself, 'How could people let this happen to a place to serene?'

That's what it was to me, serene. There was an ominous feeling all around it, sure, like the path hadn't been used for years. Or perhaps something haunted it. I pushed those sorts of thoughts out of my head and picked up the pace a little. I was running for another thirty minutes on that abandoned path when I thought I saw something through the trees. Perhaps it was a deer.

I came to a stop and pulled out my ear buds, "Is anyone out there?" I called.

If it was Bambi then they would probably run off… if it was something more of the predatory nature then I was probably screwed. But as soon as I really saw it, it was gone again. Bambi, for sure. That's when I heard something behind me, I quickly turned only to be greeted with a sharp pain to my right forearm, "Hnnnn! Fuck!" I groaned. I cradled my appendage to get a better look. Some sort of whatever had bitten me! There was blood everywhere and I wasn't quite sure what to do. I looked around frantically for it, but saw nothing. I took that as a pretty good reason to head back home.

While clutching my arm and picked up my leisurely run to a full out sprint. I'm glad that running was one of those things that I actually decided to keep doing upon graduating from Fleursville. Because, well, it came in handy when keeping up your stamina, running marathons for AIDS, and running from vicious creatures that aren't afraid to bite you! It didn't take me long to get back to the house since I didn't take any trails and I was running as fast as I could.I had to resist looking back to avoid the chance of tripping over something so I had no idea if that thing was following since it decided that my blood was oh so delicious.

When I ran into the back door of my little one-story, I fumbled for the spare key I kept hidden in a false bottom of a planter. I shoved it into the deadbolt and unlocked my door before shutting it behind me and locking it as fast as I could. I pressed my back against the wood and I collapsed to the floor. I exhaled a held breath but didn't get a chance to inhale seeing as Kipper decided to come and check up on me. Probably smelled the blood. He nosed my wound, causing me to wince, he even licked it for a little while. Probably not the most sanitary thing I've ever done but I appreciated the affection. I scratched my little fella behind the ears. Kipper whined slightly and curled up in my lap. What a good dog. I continued to pet the little protector as I drifted off from exhaustion forced on me by an adrenaline rush. Let the record show that the road less traveled can kiss my ass.

I woke up the next morning when my alarm clock went off from my room. Surprised I could hear it from the "kitchen". I put air quotes around the kitchen because I'm not sure a mini fridge, a few feet of counter space, a microwave oven, a small electric stove, and a toaster oven counted as a kitchen. Just as my couch plus coffee table didn't really count as a dining room... or a living room… still I used them as such. When I opened my eyes I was greeted by Kipper with his paws against my chest and barking in my face. What an adorable little dog!

Actually, he doesn't bark well. He just yips. Which just makes him all the more scrumptious. I brought up my right hand to pat his head when I saw the profusely bleeding wound on my arm. It had long since dried but it didn't make it look any less nasty.

"Goddamn it!" I yelled before standing abruptly and running into my miniature bathroom. I started to run the hot water from my faucet only to realize that I HAD no hot water, "MOTHER FUCKER!" I yelled. I kicked the pipe underneath my sink, damaging my toe. I don't do the most planned out things while I'm panicking. I'd like to see one person who does, now that I think about it.

So, with nothing but cold water and a bottle of antiseptic I cleaned off all of the dried blood that had caked my arm as well as my hand. Actually, I more like scrapped it off. It was like a layer of paint on my skin and tugged at my arms hair as it crusted off. Hurt. Like. A. Mother. TRUCKER. Finally I was free of the blood covering my arm so I was able to look at the wound that had scabbed over. Yep, it was definitely a bite mark. But not in any shape I had ever seen. Not that I was worrying about that at that moment. I was worrying about what I was dreading, opening the wound to put the antiseptic acid shit on my arm. I let out a sigh, grabbed my washcloth from the shower, and rubbed the scab profusely.

With the scabs successfully… OWWWWW! With the scabs successfully ripped from my skin I was able to be covered in blood again. That's just great. I washed out that washcloth, put it in my mouth, bit down, uncapped the antiseptic, and poured it all over the wound. And man did it burn. I felt tears of pain come to my eyes. In the agonizing pain I dropped the bottle in the sink as I hunched over it using my elbows to balance myself. I spat out the washcloth and started to scream. Not one of those girly shrieks when you're watching a scary movie and you want the guy you're with to feel all masculine and manly, one of those blood curdling screams that resonates from your core.

Seriously. Ow. Once that huge scream was out of my system I ripped open my medicine cabinet and pulled out some gauze and medical tape. I placed the gauze around my arm where the bite was and I quickly wrapped the tape around it to keep it in place. Then I decided to wrap an ace bandage around my arm as if I broke my wrist or something. Fewer questions… well, I did work in a car garage, random scratches I could explain. Random bite marks: not something I want to explain to my father-in-law. Since his son was never the "kinky" sorts. Yeah… today was going to be a long day.


	2. Chapter 1: Just the Beginning

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter One: Just the Beginning**

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It was the day after I had been bitten by that weird animal in the woods. I was up to date on my rabies shot so I wasn't too worried about that, yes, I have a dog. You can never be too sure. And I was going through my day as if nothing had happened. I was in my car, trying to keep Kipper from jumping out the window, heading towards work. My Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday job, that was. The Beacon Hills Gas Station. There were other gas stations around but Dommy's family "founded" the first one. And that's where I liked to work.

The other employees were nice enough and they let Kipper run around the back while I worked the register. I didn't like leaving the puppy at home. He's a rescue and has abandonment PTSD. He'll go berserk if he's alone for long periods of time. My midnight runs are okay, usually only an hour to an hour and a half. Besides, it doesn't hurt that my father-in-law owned the gas station or the auto shop. Finally I pulled into the small gas station, only four pumps, and parked in the back, can't be an inconvenience to the customers now could we? I looked at my little Kipper and clapped my hands, his signal for jumping into my backpack, which he did flawlessly.

"Good boy~" I cooed, getting me a yip of approval. I gently swung my backpack over my shoulder, made sure that my hair was pulled back, my shirt was nice, and that my jeans didn't succumb to any stress and that they didn't become "holy". Check, check and check! My fishtail was a little sloppy, my flannel was stained, and my jeans had been washed way too often for their own good.

Completely snug. Left me nearly no wiggle room. Guess that's how girls liked to wear jeans then… now… whatever. I exited my truck and locked it up before heading through the back door to the station and was immediately greeted by Pam, my mother-in-law. She managed the station/convenience store while her husband was at the garage at all hours.

"Darlin', you're early!" She said with her usual Southern peppy voice. I laughed at her exuberance and gave her a quick hug.

"Couldn't wait to get out of that house, memories and all." I explained as we broke apart and we headed towards the counter. I could practically feel her worried gaze boring into me, "I know, I should move, but I can't. Sometimes I still feel Him there… I can't bear to let him go."

Pam patted me on the back, "Sugar, you're going to drive yourself crazy. You've got to let Dom sell that place before you go all _Psycho_ on me!" I gave her an acknowledged look and went to my register, her worried eyes still watching over me.

My work day went by as per usual, smokers buying their cigarettes, kicking kids out who were trying to steal, the regulars getting their coffee fix or getting gas, so on and so forth. Honestly, besides the fresh wound to my arm nothing was out of place… that was until Camero pulled in. I call customers by either their car or their usual order. It's always gas for the Camero and black coffee for that guy. I didn't even notice him until the bell dinged. I dropped the paper I was reading and I smiled at him pleasantly.

"What can I do you for?" I asked as he approached the counter.

He stuck his hand in his pocket, "I need 60 dollars' worth of gas and a lighter." He informed me. I took that brief moment of him getting his money out and me doing something with the register to admire his looks. He was rugged, leather jacket, all black, the works; he would've been rather attractive if he smiled a little.

"I'll need some I.D." I told him, "Not that you look like you aren't old enough to purchase a lighter, policy and what not." I explained flippantly, but with a smile. He nodded and showed me his driver's license. November 24th, 1988 he was legal, "Thank you." I smiled before punching the details into the register, which was really hard to do left handed, "Sorry, this might take a little while." I said, holding up my bandaged hand. If I was going to sell that it was sprained then I couldn't use it at all.

The guy closed his eyes and nodded, "Not a problem." Even though he said that I could see an impatient tick: his left eye was twitching a little bit. I tried to ignore it as I continued my attempt to be left handed. Finally, I gave up. I looked around to see that no one was looking and I used my teeth to free my thumb.

"Don't tell anyone." I whispered, working the register like a pro now that I had two hands, "$64.11." I said, rewrapping my thumb. The guy pulled out $65 dollars and put it on the counter.

"Keep the change." He said without any emotion before heading out the door. Once he was out of ear shot, Pam was all over me.

"Darlin', you should've been all over that! He's absolutely scrumptious! If he ever comes back in, you're flirting with him before I do." She said, clutching at my shoulders. Pam was really annoying sometimes but she has a good heart and good intentions. I haven't so much as looked at another man since He died… well… since that guy walked in. That was the first time I really appreciated a man's appearance in a long time.

I shrugged, "He's not my type. I like my guys to smile a bit." I teased my dotting mother-in-law. And that's what she was to me. Completely adorable just annoying!

The rest of my day went by without as much as a hitch. But that was Wednesday, and Thursday went by without a hitch as well. But Friday, after my shift at the garage, was the first scrimmage of the lacrosse season and I was going to give my support. He played lacrosse in high school while I ran all year long so we always had gone to the games, no matter what. Besides, I was friends with a couple of the locals and most of the local boys played. Including Chuck, a kid of one of the mechanics from the shop. In past years I would give him a ride home from practice or one of the games so screaming for him was sort of assured.

I pulled into the Beacon Hills HS lot and who do I run into? Melissa McCall, the neighborhood go-to nurse. She's such a sweetheart. Ever since we moved to Beacon Hills three years ago we've known her and her son. Little Scott. He was also on the lacrosse team, another kid to root for. When I stepped out of my old beater of a truck she immediately noticed me. I was wearing my usual denim shorts, Chuck Taylor's, woman's tank and a man's flannel, so I guess I'm kind of easy to notice to those who knew me.

"Brooke! Here to support the team?" She asked me as she approached me.

I smiled at her, "I'm here every year." That's when Kipper yipped from my backpack, nearly forgot about him. I pulled him out and he immediately lunged for Melissa, "Down boy! No pawing at the ladies!" I scolded him playfully, causing Melissa and I to laugh.

"How have you been? I haven't seen you since James… you know." She didn't exactly finish her sentence but I knew what she meant. No one ever flat out said, 'James died, I know it sucks, but everything sucks in the end.' Which is how I felt. Okay, scratch that, I was feeling better by that point. But when you've been with a guy for six years, non-stop, it's hard to really live your life without him anymore. I was managing.

I shook those thoughts from my head, "I've been fine. Life goes on, you know?" I said cryptically.

Melissa didn't press on, to that I was thank you, "Come on," She urged, "Let's go grab a seat." Kipper yipped his approval, causing both of us to laugh.

With a smile on my face I followed her towards the field. I was a bit hesitant but I was hoping that a good ol' lacrosse game would get me into the mood. Back in the day I'd be one of those crazy fans who stood up and yelled at the referee. James had to calm me down several times. Not that he ever had much luck with that. I'd scream "FUCK YOU" and continue as if he said nothing at all. That's why we were so good together. I was the extrovert who stood up for everything she believed in and could work a wrench with the best of the boys while he was the introvert that was all domestic and cooked and all that "wife" crap. We were exact opposites yet perfect for each other.

Brooke, stop thinking like that. Your happily ever after is over. Time to move on. By the time Melissa finally found us two seats next to each other the game was about to begin. Too bad Melissa's pager was going off, "Shit!" She swore, "I have to get to the hospital. Tell me if Scott makes first line, kay?" She gave my forehead a kiss before scrambling out of there. It would've been nice to have someone I really knew there… guess I'd have to settle for another lonesome night. With my puppy of course!

And just like that, the game began, Kipper howling along with the buzzer. It got me some weird stares but I didn't care. It was a lacrosse game. Sure, it wasn't the same without James but I succeeded in making cheerful noises, not so much the angry ones. Whenever someone scored, no matter the side, I cheered. I mean, they were all Beacon guys. It wasn't until the last few minutes that Scott saw any action, and by action I mean he was moving like one of those parkour guys. Flipping and side stepping like a pro.

It was phenomenal.

I had no idea Scott was so… awesome! When he made a goal I was on my feet cheering like a fool, "WAY TO GO SCOTT!" I yelled. Scott looked up at me and waved, then looked over to a pair of girls and smiled. I looked over as well… maybe he had his eye on one of them. One of them actually looked over at me as well. The one with the long brown hair, she looked sweet. I gave a smile and a wave before sitting back down. That's when I heard something strange… it was a girl's voice but there was nothing but dudes around me.

"Who's that girl over there that Scott waved at?"

"Oh, that's Brooke Summers. Total weirdo. She runs like, all the time, and when she's not she's working at the auto-shop/car garage or at the gas station. And on top of that weirdness her husband killed himself last year, must've thought she was too much to handle."

"Lydia? That's mean! And, besides, she's way too young to have been married."

"They were together for years then they moved here, for whatever reason, they got married a couple of years later. Guess they were married almost a year before he went and bite it."

I looked over to the two girls who were cheering ecstatically, clearly they were the ones talking; I just had no idea why I was able to hear them. I didn't have long to think about it before everyone around me was on their feet. I had no idea what was going on but everyone seemed excited so I tried to sound excited to. Even though I sounded excited Kipper knew that I wasn't happy. It was really hard to sound excited, after hearing what that one girl said about me.

Sure, I wasn't the most normal girl around, but insinuating that my husband killed himself because of it was just terrible. Apparently the game was over so I went down to the field to ask Scott if he made first line. He had. I also made sure that I was out of there before those two girls were anywhere near me. Once I had made it back to my car and I had driven a ways down the road I pulled over and wept to myself silently for a while. Kipper sat there patient the entire eye, lapping at my cheeks whenever a tear fell. After I had cried enough to get the majority of the terrible feeling out of my system I called the hospital.

"Beacon Hills Hospital, how can I help you?" A nurse answered.

"I need to talk to Melissa McCall; she just got called in an hour ago or so." I explained to the nice woman.

"Will do." The line went dead but was quickly picked back up.

"Melissa." She said into her receiver.

I laughed slightly, "Brooke. Scott made first line! He was pretty fantastic."

"Oh that's great news! Now I have a reason to go to the games!" She laughed.

"Yeah. Listen, I have to get to work. I'll talk to you later." I allowed her to acknowledge my abandonment and then I hung up. I really wasn't in the mood to talk to people but I promised Melissa that I'd call, so, that's what I did. I was about ready to put my car back in drive when someone knocked on my window. I nearly jumped out of my skin. It was Scott so I rolled down my window, "Hey kid, what's up?"

He smiled, "Thanks for coming to the game. The extra support meant a lot." He said with that usual cute smile that he had.

I laughed, "Not a problem. I've always been a fan of the sport, you know that." I explained, "So, what's up?"

Well… I tried to ask him that. I'm not so sure he heard it with Kipper licking his entire face, he was laughing and the scene was rather adorable, "Hahaha! I just… down boy!" Scott chuckled as he tried to pry my little canine off of himself, "I was just going to invite you to a party. You're still young, you deserve I night out!"

Awww. That was sweet of him, "Thanks Scot, but I have to…"

"No buts! You're coming over to Lydia's party. Stiles will want company anyway." Scott forced.

Ah. Stiles. The hyperactive one with no shred of attention, "I… I guess for a little while. But I really need to get to the gas station."

At that, Scott nodded, "I'll accept that. But you better be there!" He paused momentarily, "Do you have a pen?" He asked.

"Uh… yes?" I answered, handing him said pen. My left hand was promptly yanked out the window and scribbled on. From my angle it looked like an address. Probably to Lydia's house. I wasn't even sure who that was. Once Scott was done he returned my hand and gave me a salute. I took that as the invitation to get the heck out of there. And, just like that, I was speeding off towards the gas station. Nothing like a pep talk from Pam to make me feel better.

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**Author's Note: Sorry this is going so slow. I didn't want Brooke to be involved with everyone right away. She's like an Omega in her own sense, she purposely stands alone. Hope you guys will stick around until it all goes down! And don't worry, Brooke won't always be like this. She's not a goody two-shoes at heart. EVERYTHING WILL BE EXPLAINED. xoxo - LoveInChains**


	3. Chapter 2: Meet the Family

**Grease Monkey**

** Chapter Two: Meet the Family and the Rest of Your Life**

* * *

"You got invited to a party? Good for you. You're too young to be a middle-aged house wife." Pam assured me when I popped in behind the counter just after I let Kipper loose.

Pam always made me laugh, "Yeah, well, to the kids around town I'm just the weird grease monkey. Besides, I'm 19. I shouldn't be going to high school parties anymore. I should be going to college parties!" I said with a laugh. At that, Pam rolled her eyes.

"Girl, take advantage of this! Meet a cute senior and get jiggy!" Pam said with a shake of her hips.

I had no idea what to say to that, "Pam. Kids don't get "jiggy" anymore!"

Again, she rolled her eyes, "Do the dirty, the naked tango, whatever you want to call it!" She laughed.

Still had no idea how to respond, "Oh my." I said with a slap of my hand to my forehead.

Good thing the bell above the door rang, signaling a much needed distraction, "Hello! How can I…" I paused to realize that it was the guy from a couple of days prior, "Camero! I remember you!" I laughed slightly to myself, "How can I help you today?"

"60 dollars' worth of gas." He responded, throwing three twenties onto the counter.

I gave him a quick nod… but another customer was trying to grab my question, "Excuse me, I need assistance." The woman proclaimed.

"I'll be right with you Miss. After I help this customer here…"

"I'm sure he can wait." She responded.

I looked up to see someone I didn't want to see for the rest of my life. I had been doing a good job of it too until that day… it was one of my many sisters. This one was the bitchiest out of all of them and took extra pleasure in making me miserable. Her name is Amber-Lynn. See, my mother was sort of psychotic. She named all of her children with a Lynn.

I'm Brook-Lynn (or Brooklyn/Brooke-Lynn, I've changed the spelling several times), there's Amber-Lynn, Mary-Lynn, Tamera-Lynn, Jane-Lynn, Elli-Lynn, and just plain Lynn. My mother had some traumatic incident when she was younger causing her to cling to the only friend she had, a girl named Lynn, and if my dad hadn't been in the mix then we'd all be named Lynn. I don't know why my dad didn't have my mother go for therapy… I never knew her.

She died giving birth to me. But I'd heard everything from my sisters. They were all raised to be pageant girls and debutants; something my mother was supposed to do but never did because of her incident. She never did tell anyone about it so she died with the secret to her insanity. Which sort of sucked, she could've been helped, more than likely. And perhaps she wouldn't have had seven children in 11 years and none of us were twins.

"Hey, look at me when I'm talking to you!"

My sister's voice brought me back to the present. Somewhere I really didn't want to be. My bleach blonde (unnatural), blue-eyed, sparkly model sister loved throwing every mistake I ever made back into my face, especially in front of people I loved. Which is why, when I graduated from High School (graduated early) at 16 I moved out of there with James (18 at the time). Wondered what she was even doing in Beacon Hills in the first place.

"Yes, how can I help you?" I asked my sister, giving a look of apology to Camero guy. He seemed to understand or seemed to not be in that big of a hurry.

Amber rolled her eyes, "Ugh, you can't help anyone; you're just a waste of space. But you are going to pay for all of my groceries because I forgot my wallet." She said snidely.

I really didn't want everyone in the store to know that that little wench was my sister. I mean, we look nothing alike. I have waist length stringy black hair (that was getting more flirtatious and full bodied over those few days), electric blue eyes, and a kind face. Amber had short, curly, unnaturally blonde hair, ice cold blue eyes, and a long face with such a pointy chin she could probably poke a hole in the atmosphere.

Apparently she had a unique look which made her perfect for whatever modeling job she was in at the moment, "I'm really sorry Miss, if you can't afford those items you're going to have to put them back on the shelf." I tried to reason with my sister. As if that ever worked.

"Oh puh-leez. Don't give me that store clerk routine. You still owe me for killing our mother." She decided to bring up. I really hated it when she did this. I mean, here's this perfect stranger, trying to put gas in his car, and she's going to tell him my life story, from her perspective. So, every bad thing I've ever done.

I sighed, "Amber, I ca…"

"It's Amber-_Lynn _thank you very much. Unlike you, I actually loved my mother and appreciate the name she gave me, Brooke-_Lynn_." She said with her usual snide-ness. I don't know why she hates me so much. She just does.

"Amber-Lynn, I really can't pay for your groceries, I barely have enough money for myself this week." I still tried to reason.

At that, she snorted, "Not enough Life Insurance from forcing your deadbeat husband into killing himself? I never knew what James saw in you, he was always too pretty for you. Well, now I'm sure he's just on your level." She said with a hand going to her hip as she admired her latest manicure. Of course she'd admire a manicure while I was sitting there dying on the inside. I could feel Pam's eyes as well as that one guys. I even felt Kipper brush against my leg.

That's when I felt something terrible. The tears, "Please, Amber, not today…"

I knew better than to beg my sister, but I still tried, "Oh poor Brooke. You know, you could've been a pageant girl like the rest of us. You could've gone to school and married a nice guy. Sure, you'll never be pretty and you'll definitely never find another guy again, but at least you'd have a good job. And you wouldn't have killed poor James." She continued to spew.

"Umm… sir, I can help you over here." Pam offered to the poor guy just trying to get gas.

Even before the guy could answer, Amber cut him off. And from the look on his face, people didn't do that often, "Oh no no no no, don't even try to cover for this grease monkey. She has more than enough in her to help me, and this lovely man right here." She gave the guy a once over, "Not that he'd want her help. I mean, she's so unattractive." And as she's saying all this she's as nonchalant as if she were ordering a coffee. Which made her words all the more deadly.

"Fine… please just… please just leave." I whimpered as I handed over all that was in my wallet, a whole fifty dollars. Amber smiled, proud of what she had done, and pocketed the cash.

"I didn't have any groceries. I just wanted to see you cry. Tata~" She says with a finger wave and, finally, she was gone.

I did everything in my power not to collapse to my knees. I dug my fingers into my legs and I held my breath for a while. When Pam came up behind me to try and direct me elsewhere I just shook my head. I looked up with a smile at the guy who was patiently waiting there.

"$60 of gas, correct?" I asked, trying to keep the tears out of my voice. Reluctantly the guy handed me the money and I activated the pump his car was at as I ripped off his receipt, "Have a good day!" I forced out; he wasn't quite sure what to do but he ended up leaving anyway. Once he was gone I was done. I crumpled into a heap on the floor of tears and shame. Amber always did this to me. Sometimes I wondered if she was a changeling, a demon that replaced my older sister when she was a baby and she's really off being raised by fairies. Not the nice fairies, the fairies that want to rip off your face.

"Oh baby girl," Pam's voice brought me back, "why do you let that nasty girl treat you like that?" She asked as she soothingly rubbed my back.

I wiped some of my tears onto my sleeve, "Because she only tells me what I'm always thinking. That's why I hate and love her most out of all of my sisters. She never let me think too much of myself."

Pam then wrapped me in her arms, "Baby, that's not what she's doing. She's trying to stop you from reaching your full potential. You're a beautiful girl with a beautiful heart and soul. Just because you've lost touch with that doesn't mean that it isn't there." She said just before she kissed my tear stained cheek. That's when Kipper decided to get in on the action and he started to lick my free cheek. No matter how often I cried, he was always there to make me feel better.

"You know what…" I decided half-heartedly, "I'm going to go to that party." I said weakly. But it causes Pam to smile so I guess it's all worth it in the end, "I'll go home and put on something nice."

Too bad I didn't own anything really "nice". My nicest piece of clothing was a black romper, a jumper without sleeves, but it was a little slutty so I decided to through a white denim jacket over top. Besides, it was cold out and that warranted a jacket. I didn't even plan on staying at the party long. Long enough for Scott and a few other people to see me and then I was going to bolt. I wasn't really having the best day. At my feet, Kipper yipped. Guess he approved of my idea and my outfit.

"You really like it, boy?" I asked him. He just continued to yip, "Thought so." I knelt down to scratch him behind his ears, which he loved, "Now, I'll only be gone for a little while. The party isn't too far away from here and I don't even really want to go."

When I said that, Kipper's tail stopped wagging, "What? You want me to party hardy?" His tail resumed waging, "It's kind of creepy how much it seems you can understand me." I stood up straight and I decided to let my hair fall down. I took the bobby pins that usually hold my bangs back out and I decided to fluff my hair. It was kind of weird how much livelier it seemed. Usually it was just dry, statically charged, and flat. Total turn off from the usual voluptuous blonde hair guys were now into.

Annoying.

Deciding that it was "now or never" in the words of Amely, I tugged on my best Chuck Taylor's and headed for my truck. An excited Kipper watched me from the bay window (the only nice thing about my shack of a house). What a cutie. I waved just as I sped off down the road towards the raucous party that was happening just down the street. When I got there, there were already, easily, 40 cars parked along the road.

Made me just the slightest bit nervous but I was prepared. I parked my truck a nice ways away and headed towards the huge party. And man was it huge. There were people making out everywhere, people in the pool, people just hanging out, and people crowding the back patio dancing or hanging around the fire. Actually, one of the dancing buffoons was Scott! He saw me and rushed over.

"You made it!" He leaned in to give me a quick hug, "Allison, this is Brooke." He introduced his possible future girlfriend to me. To be polite, I stuck out my hand and we shook. It was a bit weird, but… whatever.

"Hi, Brooke." Allison said politely with a smile, "Heard you at the game."

That made me blush, just slightly, "Oh… yeah. I get kind of invested in lacrosse. It's one of my favourite sports." I said without really thinking about it too much.

"In my old schools, football or soccer was the main thing. Now it seems to be lacrosse!" She laughed slightly. She really had an attractive smile; it was sort of not fair. Maybe I should introduce her to Amber… see her eat my dust.

That's when I saw someone staring at us from across the party. He was standing over by the back gate and there was a fire illuminating his face… it was really haunting. Still, I could've sworn that I had seen him before.

Something Scott said regains my attention, "Sorry, what'd you say?"

He smiled, "I was just saying it's nice to see you in something that's not a flannel." He joked. I shoved him playfully, causing him to laugh. Scott really was an adorable kid. But just then I wasn't feeling so good. Like… I was getting a headache or something.

"Scott, I'm going to go get some air." I say to him just as I headed over to the back gate. I leaned against the wall that surrounds Lydia Martin's house. I was alone, thank the Lord, but I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. It was sort of irritating to say the least. I did my best to ignore it. The one thing I couldn't ignore was the pounding in my head and the ache in my bones. Quite honestly it felt like my skull was ripping apart. There was a slight ringing in my ear, a constant throb at the base of my skull, a burning sensation just under my skin, the feeling that my joints were dislocating themselves, and my nails felt like they were ripping out of their beds. Not to mention the stinging in my eyes.

I couldn't decide which part of me hurt more so I just decided to sit there with my palms pressed into my eyes as I rocked back and forth slightly. I mean, what was a girl like me to do? I was at a high school party where I knew only a handful of people, none of them trust worthy enough to take me home, and I was pretty sure I was going out of my mind. My breathing started to become labored and my heart felt like it was going to explode, 'Oh my God… am I having a heart attack? I know I don't eat the best but I exercise daily!' I thought to myself, finally bringing my palms out of my eyes just so I could start panicking. I looked up to see someone standing a few feet in front of me.

"Holy shit…!" I blurted out, standing up as I did. If someone really wanted to scare me… that guy knew how. When I looked up again, he was gone. Who was he, Spider-Man? There one second, the next, halfway to Nantucket. I didn't even get a good look at the guy… What if he was a rapist or something and he's like scouting me, or something? I don't know… it was something, and at the time I just had no idea what. Why couldn't I have remained naïve forever?

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**Author's Note: I have no idea what that ending was about. OH WELL. Thanks to all who faved and alerted and reviewed. Much appreciated! Reviews keep me going! xoxo - LoveInChains**


	4. Chapter 3: Secrets

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Three: Secrets**

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Yes, if there is one thing on this planet that I absolutely hate it would have to be secrets. Especially when the secret is about or pertains to you and everyone else seems to know about it! There are other kinds of secrets that I hate too. The secrets that your body holds back from yourself because I suddenly had super smell, super hearing, and super reflexes but had absolutely no idea why or how! That really, really, pissed me off. Not that I'd admit it while it was happening. Ever since James died I barely ever expressed how I was feeling… just something I always associated with him.

The few days after my weird freak out at the party were met with relative normalcy. The only not-so-normal things were the fact that I woke up buck-ass naked in the woods a couple of times. Yeah, just a little out of the ordinary. Nothing a shot of Nyquil couldn't handle! Besides the birthday suit fittings in the woods the only other weird thing had to be Kipper. He had been barking at me and biting at me, he refused to sleep in my room with me, and he was ripping my things to shreds more than usual. I actually had to start cleaning up around my pathetic excuse of a house.

Getting away from my trashed house, it was Saturday, about a week after the party, and I was visiting the gas station. There was a game later that night, the first of the season, and I was getting pretty excited about it. More than I had about anything in a long time. When I opened the front door, though, my excitedness dropped a few levels. Pam was behind the counter gossiping with another one of the employees and she didn't notice me slip underneath the counter.

"What's going on?" I asked the two women, causing Pam to nearly jump out of her skin.

She turned and placed a hand on my shoulder as she attempted to get her heart back into rhythm, "Suga', you can't do that to me!" She scolded slightly.

Pam was a very scatter-brained woman but something really seemed to have her spooked, "What were you and Tracy talking about?" I asked once the woman Tracy had walked away to help another customer.

"Honey, some man killed a poor woman in the woods the other week and they finally caught him!" She said with relief. I wasn't quite sure where I was for this news but I never did receive it. Well, that was partially my fault. I didn't read the paper and I definitely didn't watch TV. Plus, I wasn't much of a gossip. Pam was enough of a gossip for the both of us!

Oh yeah, dead woman, "That's terrible! I'm glad they caught him!" I said with a voice full of terror. I don't know what it was but I was starting to get back to my old sarcastic self. Now, that would've been all nice and dandy, except I buried the old Brooke when I buried my husband. I wasn't in the mood to resurface any of that.

"Me too, I was scared to go out at night!" Pam continued, putting on her usual smile once the worrying was all done, "You still going to the game tonight?"

"Shoosh yeah! First actual game of the season, I need to go show my support!" I said, again, much like my old self. I was excited, exuberant, and not afraid to say what I really wanted to say. It felt weird… liberating almost. It was nice.

"I haven't heard you talk like that in a long time." Pam said quietly to me as she wrapped her arms around me in a hug.

It was surprising, but I hugged her back all the same. I didn't say anything but Pam's short henna curls tickled my nose. She smelled of cream soda, her guilty pleasure, and cigarettes, her even guiltier pleasure. It was a smell I had grown to love over the past three years. It was a smell that I associated with the only person who ever acted like a mother towards me. Pam never got the chance to have children, she got married late in life to James' dad, so it always shocked me at how maternal she was at times.

Once she was content with the amount of hugging done she let me go, gave me a turn, and smacked my butt, "Get that cute little butt of yours over to the game and flirt with some older brothers!" She joked, or I hope that she joked. I just laughed with her, called Kipper, who didn't seem to want to be anywhere near me.

I groaned when Kipper remained adamant on staying away from me, "Pam, can you watch the canine wonder, he's having some behavior issues." I asked her.

"He won't bite me will he?" She asked as she tentatively went over to him. Of course he just loved her, but not his human mother. I was only slightly hurt by that. What? That puppy was the only baby I had.

I tried once more to approach my baby when he started barking at me, "He only seems to hate me right now. You should be safe." I said, slightly morose. I gave Pam a salute before heading out to my truck. I greeted my black rust bucket with a tap to the hood, then I crawled across it to get to the other side. Everyone I parked at the gas station it was just a little bit too close to the wall and I didn't feel like walking around. Just because I run at least five miles everyday doesn't mean that I'm not a bum. I'm a top notch bum, thank you.

Once I was in the car I put it in drive and peeled out of there. Sure, going 60 in my truck was ill advised but I had all the tools I needed in the back. I was prepared for every sort of car malfunction. That made me smile slightly, who knows why. My emotions were all weird lately. For the past few weeks, actually. I shoved my emotional issues into the back of mine when I came to the school. And man, was it packed. They were playing the game on the actual field and not on a practise field. A strange excitement came over me. I threw my door open, after I was safely parked of course, and clad in my buttonless flannel, camisole, and black jeans, I was ready for a lacrosse game! Just in case, though, I grabbed my suede jacket.

When I made my way to the bleachers I saw a familiar curly haired lacrosse mom waving me over. A smile twitched on my face. I even laughed when Melissa McCall told some young couple "don't even think about it". Guess super bionic hearing wasn't just annoying, it could be helpful too sometimes. I took the bleachers two at a time before I finally made it to Melissa's row. I plopped down next to her, "You look the same as usual." She said to me.

I pressed my hand against my chest in mock hurt, "Melissa, I'm ashamed that you didn't notice all of my ground breaking differences! I just found my suede jacket underneath all of my crap in my room. I have not worn this thing in at least a year." I said, much in my old humour.

Melissa gave me a quick astonished look before we both laughed. When our amusement was over we looked to the field to see that the game was just about to start.

"Scott better kick some ass." I muttered, getting a nod from said players mother. Melissa was actually pretty nervous, this was the first time that Scott was on first line and, therefore, the first time he was in any real danger. I placed a hand on one of her bouncing knees, too bad I couldn't stop her from biting her nails. And with that, the game had begun, "KICK SOME ASS SCOTT!" I got up and yelled. Several people applauded around me, Scott looked up at me and smiled, and then I noticed the mothers with their young children glaring at me. I decided to quietly sit back down.

The game went on and whenever Scott was open, no one seemed to want to pass him the ball. One of his fellow teammates even knocked him to the ground when he got close to getting the ball.

"You got it, Scott!" I yelled, he looked up at me with yellow eyes. Weird. Must've been the lights. He looked at the ground and I watched his breath turn to steam as it came into contact with the chilly September air. He looked, honest to God, pissed. When the ref blew his whistle and Jackson Whittemore failed, yet again, to get possession of the ball, Scott jumped through the air and stepped on a member of the opposing teams shoulder to catch the ball. I mean, hot damn!

I stood up and yelled, "THAT'S HOW YOU DO IT!"

After Scott had gotten the ball, everyone seemed to have hope that we could still win that game. And with due cause! Once Scott was in action he ran the entire length of the field, bypassing every opposing player that got in his way, and making his first shot. Every in the stands stood and applauded Scott for his triumphant goal. Melissa and I just start whooping. We were probably a sight to see.

"Pass to McCall! PASS. TO. MCCALL!" I heard through all of the noise. I figured it to be the coach since he was yelling at his players and motioning towards Scott. The coach wasn't yelling loud enough for a normal person to hear, I just had my Daredevil hearing action happening.

The rest of the game was Scott central. He was passed the ball and they'd score. One even ripped through the goalie's net. Which was pretty fantastic to say the least. He was everyone's hero when he scored the winning goal and the everyone who was rooting for Beacon Hills ran out onto the field, including Melissa and myself. But when we headed to the field there was no sign of Scott. I couldn't hear his voice and I couldn't smell him...

Yes, I knew what Scott smelled like. Axe, wood, and sweat. Most of the guys on the team smelled like that but that distinct smell of pine and a little bit of wet dog. The dog smell was easy to miss but when it hit me it hit me like a brick wall. I liked to think that the dog smell was a result of his hours at the vet clinic. Not that I had time to give Scott's odd smell my attention, Sheriff Stilinski was trying to talk to Melissa and I happened to overhear.

It was hard to separate his voice from everyone else's, "-innocent. We had to let him go."

Her voice was even harder to recognise, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, whoev-whatever killed Laura Hale was an animal. We found the hairs all over the body."

"What animal has enough rage and strength to cut a girl completely in half?"

"We have no idea. The separation could've been done post mortem. But the hairs on the body belonged to the canine family."

"A rabid dog?"

"Or a rabid wolf."

"There haven't been any wolves in California for decades."

"I know. But we can't rule anything out, not until we know all of the facts."

So... Whoever killed the girl Pam was talking about had been let go since the who killed the girl turned into a what killed the girl. Good for the guy who was proven innocent but it got me concerned about the animal bite I had received the other week. Maybe I had rabies. Maybe Kipper had rabies! That would explain the sudden mood swings. I sighed and look up to see that everyone was gone. I must've looked like a complete fool, standing in the middle of the field. I smacked my forehead. Between my fingers I could see someone looking at me. It was blatantly obvious too, like a child staring at you at the mall, he didn't even bother to look away when I looked back. Of course, being the chicken that I was, I turned around and headed to my truck.

'Wait... Wasn't that that one guy?' I thought suddenly. But when I turned back around, he was gone, 'Maybe you do have rabies, Brooke. You're hallucinating about attractive guys.' I shook my head and continued to my trunk, a distinct scent of leather, musk, whiskey, and that slightest bit of dog again wafted by me. It was an appealing combination, since the dog scent didn't smell too much of actual dog... Just canine. It burned my nostrils slightly and caused me to shiver. Never, in all my life, had something burned so sweet.


	5. Chapter 4: Delirium

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Four: Delirium**

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That night after the game I had the absolute worst night's sleep ever. I was tossing and turning all night, Kipper wouldn't stop barking at me from his little fort in my closet, and every sound was magnified causing me to go bat shit insane. I wouldn't have called that night "worst night's sleep ever" if it wasn't for what happened just after midnight. That's when it got really weird. I was just lying in my bed, minding my own business, failing to fall asleep, when I saw someone staring at me from my doorway. I shot up and backed into the wall behind me, seeing as my bed had no frame.

I tried to scream I just couldn't find my voice. I was probably a sight to see. My hair had to be a mess, from all of said tossing turning, and I was wearing nothing but underwear and a tank. Perfectly rapeable. I frantically grabbed at my thin blankets in some futile attempt to cover myself. That didn't seem to bother the stranger. He yanked the blanket aside and crawled on top of me. Once again, I tried to scream. The stranger seemed to find my will to resist him to be entertaining. A smirk twitched at his lips. For some reason, I couldn't see the rest of his face. Just the lips coming closer and closer to mine.

When our lips met it was like nothing else I had ever felt. It was hot, passionate, and needy. His lips worked over mine like it was his job, licking and nipping all of the right places. He removed himself from my mouth to seductively kiss down my jawline, my throat, sucking on my pulse until I moaned and then returning to my lips once my reaction satisfied him. Once he was back to my mouth his tongue starting to probe the inside of it. After my half assed attempts to resist I decided to go along with it, my left hand cupped the back of his neck as we battled for dominance in the kiss, forcing myself to go in deeper. While the kiss continued on I felt his hand wrap around my injured wrist.

I winced. He broke away and grinned at me. I almost whimpered at the loss of his lips, causing him to let out a slight husky laugh. That's when that leather, musk, whiskey, and canine smell found its way back into every piece of my existence. I was so wrapped up in the scent that I barely noticed him taking off the bandage around my bite mark. My eyes travelled to his face, suddenly unmasked by the shadow. It was the guy who was staring at me when I was all alone on the field, the guy who came in and always got $60 worth of gas, the guy that had been watching me at Lydia's party. As I watched him almost admire my suddenly healed appendage, I noticed that his eyes were glowing an unnatural blue, and that amongst his perfect teeth were a set of abnormally large canines. A set of canines coming dangerously close to my forearm. I tried to rip my hand away, but he was too strong. It was when he opened his mouth and when he was just centimeters away from scarring my flesh that I finally...

Woke up.

I shot up like a rocket. My brain protested against me by immediately starting to ache. As I clutched my head between my knees I thought back to the dream I just had. The last time I had a sex dream was the year before I finally had sex. And the thought of me having a sex dream about some random guy I had seen a total of... Five times? Totally preposterous. I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, surprised to find Kipper with his head in my lap.

"So you don't hate me anymore?" I asked, to which he responded by licking at one of my palms. My callused hands barely felt the sensation but the feeling soaked through. I picked up my emotionally unsound dog and tossed him lightly into the air, "You know that you frustrate me, right?" He just yipped, "Thought so."

With that, I proceeded to play around with my suddenly excited pup. Ignoring the fact that it was still probably the middle of the night. Once that was done with I found myself a little too wound up to fall asleep so I decided to go for another late night run. No, I wasn't thinking about the murdering wolf out there when I decided that. So I slipped off my tank and put on a sports bra. I decided not to put on any shorts for the fact that it was the middle of the night so no one would see and the fact that my boy cuts looked like really short shorts. I grabbed my arm holster, my iPod, and jogged out of my house. After the sex dream I was in the mood for some Lana Del Rey. I set it to play "Artist" and off I went.

The woods scene was just as I remembered it and not very interesting. But when I came to that same fork in the road I had the night I had been bitten, I thought in some state of delirium that running it would be fun. Ignoring the whole being bitten thing. Maybe it was the cold air or the dream but for some reason my brain wasn't working that night. I headed down the forgotten path, running at a relatively fast pace while using my hyper-senses to keep an eye of sorts on everything around me. If that animal wanted another bite out of me then he'd have to fight for it. Hopefully he just wouldn't want to take a bite. Since I was thinking so much about that I almost buzzed right past an old abandoned house in the middle of the woods. It looked like it had some fire damage.

I'm not quite sure what drove me to do it but I decided that it would be brilliant to wander into said house. The entire place creaked as I stepped onto the worn wood. I should've been afraid of it collapsing on top of me; apparently I had left all of my common sense at home with the sex dream. Gently I pushed the remnants of the front door open, I was greeted by a strong smell of dust and burned wood. Wonder why. Other than that I could smell something absolutely putrid. The last time I had smelled anything like it had to be when Amber assaulted me with a curling iron when we were eight. It was the awful smell of burning flesh. The scent was old, like it had happened years prior, still, it set me on edge. It was a very unsettling thing to have swimming around in your sinuses. I sneezed quietly and continued my search.

There were mirrors, shattered, chairs that had been broken, and all sorts of debris that was clearly charred and unused. The house practically screamed abandonment. I was about to climb the stairs, like an idiot, when I sensed someone else on the premise. I pulled my ear buds out and let my super hearing do its job. There was definitely someone else inside that house. I quickly turned back towards the front door and tentatively walked back to the entryway. Once there, a new smell had entered the midst. You can probably guess what scent it was. That damn scent that was haunting my subconscious body as well as my perfectly alert one. It was so enticing, what was a girl to do?

"What are you doing here." A voice came from the top of the battered stairs.

My head whipped up to look at Mr... Mr…. Mr. Tall Dark and Brooding who seemed to be expecting an answer, "Uh… just out for a run! Saw the house, thought it looked cool, explored it, now I'm gonna go." I quickly spewed, inching towards the door and as far away from Him as possible. But, for some god forsaken reason, I couldn't seem to move. Something about his stare was keeping me rooted on the ground.

Carefully he descended the stairs, "Don't you know it's dangerous out here." He asked… well… more like said. I don't think the guy was capable of asking questions.

I waved my hand flippantly at him, "Oh please, I taste and smell awful. If a wolf wanted a snack, he'd find some pretty young thing that actually took the time to care about how she smelled. Me? I'm perfectly content with smelling like grease and exhaust. And the only things I eat are vegetables. I probably taste like a Caesar salad." Why was I saying these things? Only the Lord baby Jesus knew. But I must've sounded like an idiot, because that's how that guy was looking at me. Like I was spewing nonsense. I pretty much was.

"You should leave." He said coldly. Giving me that world class glare he seemed to possess.

I gave him a salute, "Couldn't have said it better, soldier." And with that, I bolted out of that house and ran back to the sanctuary that was my house. Once there, I promptly landed face down on my bed and fell asleep.

But remember how I had the worst night's sleep ever that night? It didn't end with the fucking weird sex dream of a guy I didn't find to be all that sexy. That night ended with a nightmare.

"_Hey beautiful."_

_I turned around to see the same gentle smile I had woken up to for the past three years. Shaggy blonde hair, just as shaggy as it had always been, kind brown eyes, just as kind as I remembered, that quirky smile, smiling at me like no time had passed at all. It was like I was 13 all over again, falling in love with him for the first time. I ran at him and swung my arms around his neck. The tears fell freely from my eyes as he brushed his soft hands through my hair. We stayed like that just for a while before he pulled me away and wiped away my tears with the pad of his thumb. I laughed, despite myself, and rubbed at my eyes frantically with the cuff of my shirt, "Sorry I'm such a mess." I mumbled towards my feet._

_He lifted my chin up, "And I love you for it." He said kindly, pressing his lips against my cheek. Suddenly, we were next to a school bus. I wrapped my hand over his and pulled him towards the open door to it. He didn't object, he just laughed. He never objected to my impulsiveness. It was just another reason why we complimented each other. I'd want to do something and he'd never object. I never abused this power of mine but it was handy to have underneath my belt. Once we made our way onto the bus we headed towards the back. Like the good old days, making out on the way to school. I pulled him into one of the seats and started kissing him. We remained like that for a short while… before I started to feel something welling inside of me. Something absolutely wild and savage. I broke away from him, unable to control it with the feeling of his lips on mine. _

_I tried to push him away; he was persistent. He kept planting kisses all along my jawline and neck. The savage feeling inside of me was getting closer and closer to the surface, threatening to rip me open and take shape. I had absolutely no idea what it was. James pulled back once he realized that something was wrong. He realized it too late. I reached out and clasped a hand around his throat, my nails digging into the tender flesh. James gasped and made several disturbing choking sounds before I threw him across the aisle. He managed to recover and he ran towards the front of the bus. That just infuriated me more. I got out of the seat just so I could rip it from the bus and throw it at him. It was only when I made my way towards him that I began to see clearly. Something was attacking him, it just wasn't me. _

_The thing grabbed James and threw him to the back of the bus, right in front of me. I was overwhelmed. I jumped out the back of the bus and ran as fast as I could through the woods, my shirt covered in blood. Tears were cascading from my eyes and more than likely making a nice trail as I was running. When I finally made it back to my little abode I practically ripped my door from its hinges to gain access. I was in such a frenzy that I nearly fell face first onto my coffee table. Not that I particularly cared. I threw open the door to my room and dove onto my bed._

The second that dream Brooke's head hit her pillow my opened wide, nearly popping out of their sockets. Once awake I was bombarded by the intense need to vomit. I threw my legs over my bed and stumbled into my bathroom. My fingers fumbled for a switch and when I found it and the bathroom was flooded with light my reflection caused that nausea to amplify. There were flecks of blood on my face and there was definitely blood on my hands.

'Was my dream… more than a dream…?' I thought to myself, just before I emptied the contents of my stomach into the toilet. Tears streaked my ashen face as I continued to vomit until I was nearly dry heaving, causing me to cry even more. The pain of the dream and my physical pain were just too much for me to handle. Me killing James in my dream just solidified my conscious thoughts that his death had always been my fault. If I had woken up just an hour earlier then I could've driven James to work… we both knew of his major sleep issues and his insomnia more than likely caused him to crash.

But I was a selfish bitch who had to have that extra hour of sleep. I was the one who caused my husband to drift off the road and hit a tree dead on. These were things I had always thought. Now that I was being assaulted by my conscious and my unconscious guilt I didn't know how I was going to go on. I started sobbing hysterically, collapsed on the bloodied white tile of my bathroom. My body shook with the force of it all. I was practically going insane.

That is, until that goddamn scent wafted into my nose. I don't know why it was there, but it was soothing to me in an incomprehensible way. Who knew anything involving leather could be soothing. As I inhaled the scent my body gradually calmed down, my sobs silenced by a steady heartbeat I don't think belonged to me. It didn't matter. That pounding kept me grounded. Then I felt a warmth approach my shoulder. I didn't dare look at who was there in fear that they would leave. I cherished that warmth, I was addicted to the sound of that heartbeat, and that scent resonated through every cell in my body. And when those three things had successfully calmed my freak attack, they were gone. I sat up and looked around, desperately wanting them back. I wanted them and I never wanted to let them go. The most terrifying thing that I would ever admit to myself.

* * *

**Author's Note: I'm so terribly sorry that this is so terribly late. I have this sequel I was trying to write for my X-Men fic and I finally got the first chapter ready and uploaded so I felt better with giving my Teen Wolf stories (minus The Chase, hate that story) some love. Okay. Chapter Five should be up sooner and don't worry, I've been thinking about Brooke and Derek everyday, the story is progressing nicely in my brain.**


	6. Chapter 5: Butterflies & Broken Windows

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Five: Butterflies & Broken Windows**

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Worst. Night. Ever.

After my freak attack Kipper bit my ankle. After that I tripped over the threshold into my room. And after that I smacked my head against my wall when I tried to land on my bed. So I woke up the following day with a sore ankle and a goose egg the size of a tomato on my head. Not to mention that my arm still hurt from the animal bite. I actually hadn't given it too much thought since the day after it happened. Maybe it didn't bother me all that much… I just hadn't changed the bandages in forever. Still a bit groggy, I tried to unravel the ace bandage. As soon as it came off I saw the redness breaching out from beneath the blood soaked piece of cotton. I didn't really want to see what was underneath; I just knew that it wasn't really an option. What greeted me was nothing shy of grotesque. Nice yellow pus oozed from the wound; I had to fight back a gag, and I was pretty sure that it shouldn't have been that size. The middle of my forearm was about as round as a softball.

I rushed into the bathroom and scrubbed at the wound. Then I tried to squeeze out most of the pus, mm. Delicious. Once that was successfully executed I rubbed antibiotic salve vigorously into it to prevent any other infection and to kill the one that was already there. After a few minutes of redressing and cleaning I gave up and threw a band-aid on it. I nearly duct taped the thing in my frustration.

When I went to grab Kipper so we could head out to the gas station he started barking at me, his new favourite thing to do. PISS OFF MOMMY. It took every amount of restraint I had in me to not kick him across the lawn. Aren't these some pleasant thoughts? I didn't really care, I left my bag behind, seeing as I didn't need to smuggle in Kipper, so I simply locked the mutt in the house and drove off to work. And man did I have a case of road rage that day. I was blaring my horn like it was my job and screaming at little old ladies trying to cross the street. Only when I was parked out behind the gas station did I start to settle down. Don't think it had anything to do with the building, I think I was running out of things to get mad at. I came through the back in a huff, ignoring the "good mornings" I was receiving from the two guys in the back.

I threw open the "Employees Only" door, nearly smacking some kid in the face, and trudged over to the counter. Pam was already there giving me a worried look, the usual look I had been getting since James died.

"Sugar, are you okay?" She asked, getting ready to lift the counter to let me through when I simply vaulted over it.

Once behind the obstacle I gave Pam a sarcastic smile tied in with a sarcastic thumbs up, "SUPER." I said with extreme sarcasm. Something about that day and sarcasm was synonymous, or at least the morning was.

I don't think Pam knew how to respond to that so she didn't. She kept to her own register and didn't speak to me until Sheriff Stilinski stopped by. We could tell by the look on his face that it was going to be a very long day.

"The usual?" I drawled when he came to my register.

He sighed, "Made it a double… no, a triple."

That caused me to perk up a little, the Sheriff only ever got more than his one shot when a case was really stumping him. I went over to the espresso machine and dispensed his triple into his coffee, carefully placing it in front of him once I was done. He thanked me, paid for it, and just sat there, propping himself up on the counter with his elbow, sipping his morning fix.

"You okay, Sheriff?" I asked, genuinely concerned about his well bring.

Groggily, he nodded, "It's just this case… the "mountain lion". None of it makes sense! I've never seen an animal be able to do so much damage unless it was rabid! There's no sign of rabies in any of the wounds of the victims." He said, mostly to himself.

I found myself thinking about the previous night, the nightmare, to be more specific, the fact that I had murdered James. I felt the bile start to rise in my throat, how I longed for that damn night to be behind me. The Sheriff must've said something else because I saw his lips move but I couldn't hear anything. There was this obnoxious ringing in my ear and the feeling that they were stuffed with cotton. He nodded at me and left, leaving me to wallow in my own insanity.

That's when something told me that I had to go to the bus garage at the school. This little voice in the back of my head saying that I would find answers there. I told Pam I'd be back in an hour, she didn't argue. Everyone let me do whatever I wanted, for the most part. The next few minutes were a complete blur but when I pulled into the school parking lot I seemed to be thinking clearly. Or clearer, I still couldn't reason why I would want to go back to the site of one of my nightmares. Made absolutely no sense to me… until I saw all of the squad cars at the garage. I forced myself out of the car and I nearly fell on my face trying to see what was going on. I was so distracted that I ran right into a kid; thank God that kid was Stiles.

"Brooke? What are you doing here?" He asked, strange, I wanted to know the same thing myself.

I didn't answer. I couldn't, not when I saw the police put a man into the back of an ambulance on a stretcher. A stretcher nearly soaked with his blood. My hand grabbed for Stiles and my nails dug into his arm, trying to find some balance.

Balance I wouldn't have for long, he ripped his arm from my reach, "Holy hell! Someone needs a manicure!" He said, rubbing his wound, "Those nails could kill someone!"

Oh… if he only knew.

When I got back home I found my entire house in even more disarray than I left it. Once I was in the door I could hear a distinct snarling coming from my room. I entered said room only to have Kipper jump right at my face. To say that I was startled would be a complete understatement. I whipped my arm up to deflect, the injured arm, and he just sank his teeth in!

"MOTHER FUCKER. WHAT THE HELL?!" I yelled at him before promptly throwing him against a wall. He yipped before retreating back into his little fort he made out of my clothes and other worldly possessions. The little demonic creature was biting at my last nerve. I was five seconds from sending him off to the local shelter. He's my baby boy and all that crap but enough is enough! I made a note in my phone to send him to the vets in the next few days. There was something wrong, and I just knew it.

A couple of days later I was working at the gas station when tall, dark, and handsome came in for his usual order. This time around he seemed very guarded, looking over his shoulder, his head whipping around to the slightest sound, all that jazz. I greeted him as I usually did; he gave me a menacing glare before fidgeting some more. Usually he at least gave me a polite hello or a small nod of the head. He paid for his gas and returned to his car. It wasn't a minute later before two cars blocked off the sleek Camero. The whole situation looked a bit shady, when the guys from the cars exited their vehicles, Camero looked around cautiously and stopped fueling his car. He knew there was something wrong as well. I turned on the bionic hearing to hear the conversation that was about to take place.

"Nice ride." An older guy said, approaching the car, "Black cars, though," he continued, shaking his head, "very hard to keep clean. I would definitely suggest a little more maintenance." As he said that he rubbed the pad of his thumb against the Camero. Once he was done he went over to the squeegee, the thing you wash your car with, "When you have something this nice," he grabbed the squeegee, "you want to protect it right?" He asked as he started to wash the windshield. If the two were friends, I wouldn't have suspected a thing. The tension in Camero's entire person told me they were somewhere closer to enemies than "kindred-spirits", "Personally, I'm very protective of the things I love. That's something I learned from my family… and you don't have much of that these days."

I paused a second to allow shock to pass my face. Then I abruptly jumped over the counter and exited to store and ran over to them, "Excuse me, gentlemen, there are other pumps open, should you wish to use one." I said snidely, my eyes connecting with each of theirs. I remained in between the older guy and Camero. Very carefully, I sniffed at the air. There was this odd stench, like gunpowder. I looked to the guys who hadn't spoken to see them each carrying assault rifles. Perhaps I bit off more than I could chew.

"No, no, that's alright. Just wanted to offer some friendly advice to Derek here." He smiled. I missed something that the older guy said earlier, I just knew he said something to get under Camero's skin; the proof was in his clenched hand. Slowly, that hand relaxed, "There we go." The older guy continued, putting the squeegee back from where he obtained it, "You can actually look through your windshield, now. See how that makes everything so much clearer?" He asked, sharing a glare with Camero before returning to his car.

I turned to "Derek", the name itself caused a weird reaction in the pit of my stomach, and I saw the expression on his face. He wanted to react, he wanted to fight back, "Don't." I mouthed to him.

Either he didn't notice my moving lips or chose to ignore them, "You forgot to check the oil."

I looked over my shoulder to see that the older guy had stopped. An overwhelming smugness oozed from him. It was awfully nauseating. When he turned back around there was a smug smile plastered across his face. Damn bastard, "Check the man's oil." He said to one of his lackeys.

One of them sauntered over to the driver's side of the car, inspecting its black sleekness as he did. That's when he brought up the butt of his rifle and smashed in the window. My jaw dropped, I couldn't help it. The fact that someone would do that in full view of our security cameras was beyond comprehension, "Looks good to me." The guy said, returning from whence he came.

"… Drive safely." The old guy said threateningly. They all got in their cars and drove away. Wow, just like that.

I whipped back around to see Derek moving to get in his car, "Wait!" I exclaimed. He paused, only to glare at me, "This was completely out of your hands, my father-in-law runs an auto-shop on the edge of town." I fumbled around in my pockets for one of his cards and I snatched the pen from behind my ear. I leaned on the roof of his car and wrote 'James' Doll Face' on the back of the card, "Give this to any of the guys there and they'll know to give you a majour discount." I slide it over to him, "Come in on Friday, that's when I work." I closed my eyes and shook my head, "You don't care about that. Come in any day, I guarantee the best service." I smiled at him, and he directed a ghost of a smile back at me.

"Thanks…" He muttered.

A blush started to creep across my cheeks, joining the smile, "We've got security cameras. They're not going to get away with what they did." I assured him, he nodded, "So… drive safe, Derek."

And with that, he slipped into his car and sped off… plus, if I'm not mistaken, I could swear I could hear something getting faster… I swore that it was his heartbeat. And that smell from before had returned, musk, leather, whiskey, with an addition of cinnamon. Absolutely delicious. I shook my head of those thoughts, that scent is all in my head and I couldn't hear heartbeats… or could I? I returned to my post and I listened to Tracy's heartbeat. There was a distant thumping in my subconscious, and something even more distant underneath that. It was weird. That's when I remembered the footage, "Hey, Tracy?"

The brunette turned to face me, "Yeah, girl?"

"Can you get the footage from the security cameras? Some guys just bashed in another guys window. I'd like to get it to the Sheriff as soon as possible."

She nodded, "Not a problem! Did that happen while you were out there?"

"Yeah, it was really weird." I admitted.

"I bet it was. I'll go get the footage right now so you can drop it off at the Sheriff's office." She said before turning to go.

I placed my hand on her arm, "You can wait until I get off work, there's still customers to service." That sounded a little bit weird, like I was an escort or something. I didn't think anything of it at the time.

"Girl, it's dead. Go home." Trace laughed, wheeling me around and shoving back to my post, "Wait here, I'll be right back."

In the next half an hour I had dropped off the tape at the station and I was pulling into my driveway. As soon as the engine was dead and I was slumped against my seat, my mind drifted towards Derek… his name's Derek. A sigh escaped my lips, a weird sort of laughing sigh. I was being such a girl. I shook my head, yet again, and made my way towards my house.

Once the front door was open I heard a distinct low pitch growling off in the distance, "Kipper?" I said quietly.

The growling turned to snarling for a second before returning to growling. I took a step towards the kitchen when Kipper burst out from underneath the coffee table and latched itself to my wounded arm, "Shit! That is the last straw!" I snarled.

I grabbed his scruff with my left hand and wrenched my wounded arm from his jaw. My arm was bleeding profusely and the fur around his mouth was soaked in crimson. I couldn't really feel the pain, I just snarled at him. I then proceeded to locate his carrier and I stuffed him inside it. Next stop, Deaton's. I was getting fed up with all of this biting and snarling and the shredding of my things. With the demon secured behind the metal of the carrier I felt a bit safe. But there was this underlying feeling that I was being watched… and this overwhelming feeling of absolute dread.

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**Author's Note: I have not updated in around 3 months, for that I am sincerely sorry. I had this surge of Teen Wolf love when I was reading _Not a Good Year to be an Omega_ and I wanted to get going on this right away. Next chapter is the "Oh Shit" chapter. Perhaps the one after that... but this is going to pick up! There's a hopefully in there somewhere. Thank you to the reviews, the favs, and the alerts. Sorry this story is so OC centric. From here on out she will have migrated into the "Wolf Pack". Get psyched! I know I am! Oh, and sorry the ending is a little bit rushed. I tried to keep the entire chapter spaced out so you didn't feel overwhelmed. I am. Love Brooke :) - xoxo, Momma Love**


	7. Chapter 6: Motor Oil Perfume

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Six: Motor Oil Perfume**

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Days passed before I saw Derek again. Not that I was in any mood to see him. My nights were plagued with nightmares of fire and brimstone. My mornings cursed by more naked treks through the woods. My days cursed by the loneliness I felt with the absence of Kipper. Scratch that last one, I felt great, not worrying about that little cretin.

Again, it was days before I ran into the leather clad Derek. It was at the garage, the Friday following his window getting smashed in. When I saw his black beast pull in I couldn't help smiling. I finished putting the rims back on an old Volvo before grabbing my rag from my back pocket and leaving Geoff to finish up. I wiped the sweat from my brow and silently cursed my work uniform for not being sexually appealing at all. At the ding of the door I walked back into the "reception" area to see Derek, just as handsome as he'd ever been.

"Hey." I said a little sheepishly. He simply looked at me before heading over to Dom. No reaction. Oh well, I was just a stranger to him, anyway, "I'll take this one, boss." I directed at my father-in-law. Dom wiggled his eyebrows at me and I dearly hoped that Derek didn't notice. I motioned for him to follow, "Pull your car into the third garage, I'll meet you over there." I instructed him. He nodded and went to do what I told him to do.

I walked over to Dom who didn't even let me say anything, "You know, some guys are creeped out by that sort of abruptness."

My eyes rolled of their own accord, "I told him to come in, his window got bashed in at the gas station a few days ago. I was standing two inches from him when the bastards did it too. With an assault rifle." I informed Dom, a look of complete disbelief colouring his face, "Yeah, that was my reaction."

I grabbed a clipboard with a checklist of the usual problems with cars, checking off "new window" as I entered the mechanics den, that's what we called the separate garages, where Derek was waiting for me, propped up against his car.

"So, we've got some options for you with the glass. You can either wait for us to order the glass for your specific make and model, seeing as many people in this town don't drive Cameros, or you can get some hard plastic to make due as the window until the order gets in. I recommend the second one, and the possibilities of replacing all your windows with bulletproof glass." I said the last part jokingly, chuckling to myself as I scribbled on the clipboard in my odd chicken scratch.

"… can you order bulletproof?" He asked bluntly.

I blinked, not quite sure if he was joking or not. Even then, I was pretty sure that guy wasn't capable of laughter, "Uh… it'll be expensive, and I don't know if the discount will cover that…" I shook my head, "You know what I'll order the bulletproof and I'll do a check-up on the black beauty and put the plastic in for free if you pay full price for your military grade glass. Sound like a deal?" I offered/asked.

If anything, Derek looked to be in agreement, "Fine with me." He said with his arms crossed tightly across his chest. His nicely shaped chest, I might add.

"Come on over to the desk and I'll get your information in the system."

Reluctantly, he followed. We made our way over to the desk that seemed to have been recently vacated. I shrugged to myself and took a seat in front of the computer.

After logging into the network I looked up into Derek's blue eyes, blue eyes flecked with green, "I'm going to need your- Oh." I started to say before all of the appropriate paperwork was shoved under my nose. License, registration, and car insurance. Just in case we messed up the car irrevocably, like that would ever happen, "Thanks." I muttered.

Carefully I put the order in for the four windows and two windshields for a very threatening Derek Hale… Hale… sounded familiar, "And that's that! Your order should be in within the month." I handed the papers back, "Now I'll get started on the car! It shouldn't take more than a couple of hours, so if you want to go and get some chores done…" He shook his head.

"Alright! Let's get crackin'!" I rolled up my sleeves while being extra careful of the bite, and proceeded towards Derek's car.

While I worked on the car, I could sense someone watching me. Surely it was Derek, making sure I didn't harm his car too badly. Out of the blue I randomly shouted "SHIT!" to see his reaction. He nearly leapt through the glass that separated the waiting room from the garage. I chuckled and continued as if nothing happened. The whole repair took three hours, including a replacement rearview mirror that was about ready to fall off and buffing out a spot on the bumper. A very satisfying job. I looked into the waiting area, my eyes connected with Derek's and I beckoned him over.

It felt like he was next to me within the minute.

I held out the keys to him, "Now, no more messing with guys at gas stations or you're paying full price for the next replacement." I teased. He just grabbed the keys and got in his car like I didn't say anything at all. I didn't take it too personally, I was, afterall, just some random girl from the gas station. Before he had the chance to speed off I knocked on the window. Hesitantly he rolled it down, his eyes attempting to bore holes in my skull.

"I'm going to need a way to contact you when the order arrives, you have an email?" He shook his head slowly, "Cell phone?" At that, he glared at me some more. Again, I didn't take it personally. He dug his hand into his pocket, messed around with the buttons and showed me the screen. Then I wrote down the number displayed, "Thank you, Mr. Hale. I'll see you soon!"

With that, he was gone.

A couple of hours later I closed up shop and made my way to go home, stripping off the dark blue jumpsuit and kicking off the hiking boots. I said goodnight to the boys and Kayla, Dommy and Pam's granddaughter, wrestled a little with Chuck who just got back from lacrosse practice, and I went out to my car. My truck was parked across the road from the shop, where I usually parked it, but I had a hard time forcing myself to cross the street.

The air was thick with misdeeds and I had a feeling that being outside wasn't the best idea. Briskly I walked over to my truck, fumbling for the keys, only to realize that my arm was roaring in pain. It was so sudden I didn't really know how to respond. I slammed my back against the truck to silence a scream. The keys dropped to the ground in response to my… response. I fell to my knees, scrambled for the keys, shoved them in the lock and allowed myself access.

When I was safely inside the car I noticed my erratic heartbeat, my sporadic breathing, each individual sign of panic. My hands were twitching, my brow was covered in a cold sweat, my lips trembling, and my bleeding cheek from when I bit it, around the same time I slammed my back into my truck. Once the pain in my arm diminished significantly I put my car in gear and sped off towards home. I wasn't a mile down the road when my roof caved in, my window was smashed, and I was yanked out of said window, covering me in shallow six inch cuts.

I rolled across the road, watching my truck wrap around a tree at the end of the street. And then me, being completely confused and frantic, I ran behind an abandoned factory. I pressed my back against the brick and slide down until I was sitting against the cold ground. My arm started to throb, alerting me to my apparent danger… thank you, delayed reaction. I wasn't on the ground long before I heard a gunshot, causing me to flinch. When I looked up, I saw a large creature jumping across the rooftops. It was as big as a bear, but much more limber. Not that I ever knew a bear to even climb onto rooftops let alone jump across one.

Upon looking back down I saw someone familiar, not twenty feet away. It was Derek. He rushed over to me, "What the hell are you doing?" He yelled at me quietly through clenched teeth, "Are you _trying_ to get yourself _killed_?!"

I shook my head, tears falling to my chest and shoulders, "That thing… it… it yanked me out of my truck… I don't know if I can move." I managed to say through the pain. Now that I thought about it, I think I had twisted/sprained my ankle.

"Fuck." He huffed. He took my right arm, causing me to wince and him to pause, wrapped it around his shoulder, then hunched over, cueing me to get on his back. Carefully I swung my leg around, resulting in me getting carried piggyback style, "Hold on." He said… more like threatened. Like, if I didn't hold on he was going to rip my limbs off and beat me to death with them. Nah, Derek wouldn't do that. He seemed like a guy who could and would kill a man with his bare hands. He began to climb up the side of the building via fire escape.

After he ran out of ladder he turned his head towards me, "Hold on tighter." He ordered, and I obeyed. The last thing I wanted was becoming a pancake due to a twenty foot drop. Actually, last thing I wanted was to get turned into a midnight snack. Both very possible outcomes! So, I locked my wrists, and held on for dear life.

Not a moment too soon. Derek jumped and latched onto a barred off window across the diagonal gap. I made an odd little squeak, earning a snarl from my saviour, "Sorry…" I mumbled.

He jumped back across the gap, finally making his way onto a roof. He gently removed me from his back and even more gently placed me against the cold steel. I started to open my mouth; Derek simply placed his finger to his lips, indicating that I should keep quiet. Forcing down the lump in my throat, I nodded. He lifted his head up in the air and actually sniffed… he _sniffed_. I guess everything was fine because he returned his attention to me. First, he looked at my ankle. He pushed up the cuff of my jean up above my calf and tested the joint. As soon as he touched it, I yanked it away, hissing slightly.

For a brief moment worry flashed across Derek's face only to be immediately replaced by his usual stoic frown. He then moved towards my wrist. Before he even touched it I pulled away, "Trust me, it's gross. You don't want to see it." I tried to warn him. He didn't care. He grabbed my hand and removed the bandage. It wasn't even all the way off and I already felt like I wanted to puke. No matter how much antiseptic I used, it only seemed to get worse.

"This is…" He muttered, turning my arm over and over again, carefully analyzing the puncture wounds, "How old is this?" He practically growled.

I counted it out in my head, "About two weeks old. It's infected, isn't it?" I asked, already knowing the answer, yet not receiving one. He brushed his fingers over a blackened and crusty hole, surrounded by complete redness. And swollen like a broken ankle.

He looked back up at me, "I need to know the exact date, how old is this bite?" He asked, his voice get louder.

Not gonna lie, that freaked me out a little, "Uh… day before the last full moon?" I managed to say through my fear.

"You absolutely sure?" I nodded, "Alright." He stood and held out his hand, "Now let's…" Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sound of a gunshot… and a bullet penetrating his arm, sending him off the roof and propelling towards the ground.

First he crashed onto an abandoned carrier, then with a heavy thud he connected with the pavement. That's when something inside of me started baring its fangs. I don't know what it was, but someone was going to pay for this. I was about ready to jump off the roof when I heard him groan and something else found its way to my ears.

A car rolling into the lot.

I made my way to the edge of the roof and watched that older guy from the other night exit his car to approach a rather attractive blonde woman with a… another assault rifle swung over her shoulder. Behind me, Derek coughed and wheezed: a normal reaction for someone who fell thirty feet. There were general sounds of pain and I subconsciously dug my nails into the side of the building, breaking them. No matter how attractive the woman was down there, I wanted to rip her throat out.

"Get in." The old guy commanded.

"Not even a "hello", "nice to see you"?" She snidely remarked.

He wasn't having any of that, "All I've got at the moment is put the assault rifle away before someone notices."

For some reason, she found that funny, or… at least she looked like she thought it was funny, "That's the brother I love."

Escuse-em-moi? Brother? There was a 15 year gap between them, easy. I guess the older guy isn't as old as I'm making him sound.

"There were two of them." She said, probably after something I missed. It tends to happen when I get distracted.

"The Alpha?"

"I don't know but one of them tried to kill me."

'_Hold the phone… what the hell does an _Alpha_ have to do with this? Are they shooting rabid dogs?_' I thought to myself, '_Is what's happening to Kipper happening to others on a more severe scale?_' Honestly, looking back at this now makes me feel like an idiot.

"One of them was going to lead us to the other, he can't do that if he's _dead_."

"Well I can't help kill either of them if one of them kills me first."

There was a silence between them, "How long will it take?"

"I give him 48 hours… if that."

Without so much as another word they both returned to the guys car. That's when I noticed the pine, Axe, and canine. Scott was nearby, for whatever reason. Just as soon as I noticed him, he was gone. Strange. No time for that. I looked back over at Derek. He was clutching at his arm and sitting up against a crate. He didn't look bad for a guy who just got shot. I wasn't sure how I was going to get down, but my ankle was feeling better. I summoned the distance jumped in me and jumped across the gap, just as Derek did. Then I jumped once more to the fire escape before leaping through the air and landing right in front of him… well, I'm not that graceful. I landed on my bad ankle and rolled out of the way. After I finally gained my bearings I looked at him… he tried to help me, and got shot. It looked so painful…

Then, as if sensing my eyes on him, Derek looked up at me, his eyes glowing an unnatural blue, "Get away from me…" He snarled. That snarling gave way to a very sharp pair of canines. Those canines led to his ultimate escape of the scene. Just as he left… I smelled it... cinnamon, leather, musk, whiskey, that underlying canine scent… and death.

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**Author's Note: WOW. NOT GONNA LIE, THE WHOLE DOUBLED AMOUNT OF REVIEWS FOR THAT LAST CHAPTER WAS AMAZING. Thank you Lycan Lover 411. You said some amazing things. I agree, Amber and Lydia are bitches. Hopefully one of them will get better! I highly doubt it... them being who they are. SO. What do you think? Is she a wolf? If so, does Derek know? Why didn't she change during her first full moon? Why hasn't she changed since? Why hasn't the bite healed?! All good questions and I want to hear your theories people! Everything will be explained in the chapter after the next... so... chapter 8. Next chapter, a little trip to the vet. Time for Brooke to give Derek his rabies shot... actually, I think he's giving it to her. SHOCKING DETAILS. NEXT CHAPTER. Sorry, I'm tired. Catch you all on the flip side! xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. My stories are best viewed at 1/2 page. FYI.  
**


	8. Chapter 7: Saw X

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Seven: Saw X**

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"Um… what the fuck are you doing?" I asked a certain Stiles Stilinski, who happened to be wielding a bone saw. Derek, who was also there, looked like absolute death. His complexion had turned from fair to grey, the skin underneath his eyes was a deep purple, and he was covered in a cold sweat. Not mentioning the black veins in his left forearm.

Okay, let's back up.

Day after Derek got shot and I was minding my own business, chewing on some fruit jerky, flipping through an old Sir Arthur Conan Doyle book (James collected them), lounging across my bed, when I got a call from Dr. Deaton. Awkwardly I leaned over the side of the bed and answered my buzzing cellphone that I had left in my jacket, "'ello?" I said into the receiver.

"Brooke! It's Dr. Deaton." The doctor replied.

That called for my attention, "Hey! How's Kipper? Still causing havoc?" I half-joked.

I heard him chuckle, "Quite the contrary. I don't know what was bothering him but a change in location seemed to be the cure. He's ready to go home as soon as you're ready to take him." He informed me.

Now that I couldn't believe, "Really? Wow. That was fast. I can come and get him tonight." I offered.

"Well… I gave Scott the night off and I'm leaving soon… you know what; there's a key behind the dumpster. Let yourself in at any time, your little terrier is in the small dog kennel. As long as I have my entire surplus of medical supplies tomorrow, you should be fine." He said. I could practically hear the wink in his voice.

I couldn't contain something akin to a chortle, "I'll keep that in mind, doc." With that I ended the call, smirking. Deaton always had these little ways of making me smile. In a way, I relied on them. The little things, anyway.

A couple of hours later I shrugged on my suede jacket, ready to walk the distance to the animal clinic, seeing as my truck was in the shop after coming into contact with the tree last night. I tugged on my ankle boots and that was it. Phone and wallet in my pocket, I left my own personal hell and headed towards a new one. Unbenounced to me. It only took me half an hour to make my way to the clinic. I found the key and freely let myself in. Before "sniffing" out my canine I threw my jacket in a corner. I threw open the door to the small dog kennel and who was there waiting for me with his tail banging against his crate? A suddenly recovered Kipper.

Onto what happens later: it wasn't until sundown that Derek and Stiles actually showed up. Not that I didn't sense them coming. I could smell Stiles from a mile away. Apparently no one ever taught him the art of moderation when it came to cologne. I crawled over to the door that led to the examination room, causing Kipper to whine. I put my finger to my mouth. He obeyed. I saw Stiles come in first, only to be followed by Derek. Okay, "followed" is a bad term here. He was stumbling more than he was following. My fingernails dug into the door. Can I admit that I was scared?

Next thing I knew, Derek's yanking his shirt over his head, exposing the black veins and the blood. And a very interesting tattoo on his back. I touched the one on my collar bone when I saw it. Wonder if it held any meaning to him like mine does for me.

"You know that really… doesn't look like anything some Echinacea and a good night's sleep couldn't take care of!" Stiles managed to squeak out, probably to get as far away from Derek as he physically could. Not gonna lie, I had a hard time holding down my lunch when I looked at his arm.

Derek barely paid him any heed, "Once the infection reaches my heart… it'll kill me." He said, mostly to himself, as he ventured over to one of the doctors many drawers and cabinets. His breathing was loud, and laboured. I could hear it through the door. It pained me; in some part of me I had never felt anything before, to hear him like this. I barely knew the man yet I felt like I knew him in every part of my existence. Call it creepy, that's how I saw it sometimes.

Back to Stiles, "Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" He asked. If Derek wasn't dying I probably would've laughed a little.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time…" Wait… bullet? What the hell? "… last resort." Was he in so much pain he couldn't even form complete sentences? My nails kept digging into the wood of the door. I hated feeling like that, but I couldn't help it.

"Which is…?" Stiles asked yet again.

And here came the bone saw, "You're going to cut off my arm."

I couldn't take it anymore, I burst through the door, my hand on my hips, and I said my previous statement, "Um… what the fuck are you doing?"

Two pairs of eyes looked up at me frantically, "Brooke? What are you doing here?" Stiles asked, looking somewhat relieved that the attention was off him sawing off an appendage.

"I was getting Kipper when I saw Derek here stumble in looking like death himself." I looked from Stiles to the saw, "Then a bone saw was brought to the party and I had to get in on it. What the hell are you two thinking?!" I yelled.

I could practically feel the rage wafting off of Derek, "This is none of your business. Get the hell out." He snarled.

"That's clearly the bullet wound you got last night, saving my ass. So don't you give me any of that crap. Why do you need your arm to get cut off? What infection could you have possibly gotten in the past 24-hours that progresses so aggressively?" I asked with my most motherly voice I could muster.

Once he saw that I wasn't going anywhere I could see the rage subsiding slightly, "… It's a genetic condition." Which is partially true, "Whatever that bullet was laced with triggered it. I'll be dead in the next few minutes unless someone cuts off my god damn arm!" He yelled, finding a tourniquet and successfully tying right above his bicep.

"Whoa my God…" Stiles exasperated as he revved the saw, "What if you bleed to death?" He tried to reason with Derek, only there was no reasoning with him. I could see it, and smell it. Completely adamant.

With one end of the tourniquet in his mouth, Derek snarled, "It'll heal, if it works!"

I could tell by the look on Stiles' face, he couldn't do this, "Look… I don't know if I can do this…" He practically begged the man in front of him.

"Why not?!" Derek continued to snarl.

I couldn't help it, I slapped Derek's shoulder, "He's just a kid! Why the hell can't you do this yourself?" I didn't get a response, only a deep guttural growl.

Stiles rubbed his head, "Well… because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the blood!" He pleaded, his voice cracking at the last syllable.

"What? You faint at the sight of blood?" Derek asked, in entire disbelief that a perfectly normal kid could be a bit squeamish.

"No but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!"

Derek started shaking his head, "Alright, how 'bout this. Either you cut off my arm or I cut off your head." Again, I couldn't help it, I slapped him. Stiles didn't need this, neither of us did.

"Okay, you know I'm so not buying your threats anymo…!" Stiles managed to get out before his collar was fisted and he was yanked over the examination table, "Oh my God, okay, bought, sold, totally, I'll do it, I'll do it!" He stammered.

Derek started to lean over the edge of the table, "What…? What are you doing?" He asked just as Derek emptied some sort of black sludge from the confines of his stomach.

"Holy God, what the hell is that?!" Stiles and I both asked. The sludge had a nice, potent, stench of putrefaction. Like whatever was killing Derek was causing him to rot, inside and out. I pressed the sleeve of my jacket against my nose.

"It's my body..." Derek wheezed, "Trying to heal itself."

"Well it's not doing a very good job of it." Stiles just had to counter.

Derek looked up at him, his shoulder and his arm pressed flat against the edge of the table, "Now. You've got to do it now."

"Look, honestly I don't think that I can…"

"JUST DO IT!" Derek continued to yell.

"Oh my God, okay… okay!" He pressed the saw blade against his arm, "Oh my God! Alright, here we go!" I pressed my palms into my eyes, I didn't want to see what was about to happen when…

"Stiles?"

A look of elation passed across Stiles' face and Scott's scent joined the clusterfuck of miscellaneous death fumes, "Scott?"

Said adorable 16 year old came into the room and was probably slightly confused by what he saw, "What the hell are you doing?!"

"That's exactly what I said." I muttered from next to Derek.

Apparently my presence startled him more than the bone saw, "What is Brooke doing here?!"

"No time to explain that, but you just saved all of us a lifetime of nightmares." Stiles said with elation, dropping the saw back on the table.

"Did you get it?" Derek asked, growing weaker by the second.

Scott shoved his hand in his pocket and gave me a gold bullet, motioning for me to hand it to Derek. I obliged. Not before an odd sensation riveted through my spine. I shook it off, curious to what Derek was going to do with it. He brought it up to eye-level, Stiles asked what he was going to do with it, he stammered a response… and he passed out. The bullet fell from his hand and disappeared underneath a table. Scott dived after it valiantly.

While Scott searched for the bullet, Stiles went to Derek, "Derek?" He called, slapping his face, "Come on, Derek, wake up! Scott, what the hell are we going to do?!"

"I don't know!" Scott yelled in response, "I can't… reach it!"

Suddenly, everything became muffled. I looked around, the edge of my vision was turning red. I looked down at Stiles who was looking back up at me saying… something. From reading his lips he was saying something about my eyes. That they were glowing or something. Then, without warning, I collapsed. I pushed myself into a corner, no matter how much my joints objected.

Did I forget to mention?

Every inch of my skin felt as if it was getting ripped from my bones. My joints? As if they were set in cement. And it felt like someone was shoving an ice pick into the corners of my eyes. I opened my eyes to see Derek getting punched in the face by Stiles. I swear, I blinked for a second and they were all standing. Another blink, Derek was back on the floor. One last blink, he was in my face. I heard him saying my name. I grabbed his arms; my fingernails had turned into claws, digging into his flesh. I removed them, watching the blood trickle from the wounds I inflicted.

"I… I'm so sorry." I explained, moving my hands to clutch at my skull.

"She's turning, isn't she?" I heard Scott say from somewhere in the room, I couldn't quite tell where.

"Yes. She is. Shit, I should've seen it earlier!" Derek snarled.

"I don't remember it being like that, what's wrong with her?"

"A female's transformation is different! Bones relocate and expand, she's going to be in more pain than she could've ever imagined!"

I had no idea what they were talking about, but I knew it held some truth. My entire skeletal structure was screaming. Something popped in my neck, forcing me to lurch forward, to cling onto Derek. And, if Derek was right, that was just the beginning.

"You're going to want to get out of here." Derek warned.

Like my body planned it, something in my lower spine felt as if it had exploded, forcing a very audible scream out of me. Upon closing my mouth I felt two sets of very sharp canines had taken the place of the teeth I had known to be there. Something else in my lower spine ruptured, higher than the last. That's when I knew each and every vertebrae was separating individually. I choked back tears, "It hurts…" I gasped into Derek's neck as another scream reverberated through me.

We were like that for a considerable amount of time, and Derek was right. I couldn't have even fathomed that sort of pain. I was biting the inside of my cheek so hard blood was freely pooling from my mouth. I wondered why I didn't pass out from the pain, much less the loss of blood. Eventually, I was able to breath moderately again. My breath came out in puffs in the crook of Derek's neck. I inhaled deeply. He still smelled sick, but not so much so that that one smell was masked as entirely as before. I pulled away to look him in the eye. He looked back.

"What's happening to me…?" I pleaded, pulling away even farther, wrapping my arms around my knees, "Why do I feel like I'm physically not the same person anymore?"

I don't think Derek knew how to respond. He simply took hold of my right wrist and pulled it towards him. He pushed up my sleeve to produce my oh so disgusting bite mark again, "In instances like this, it's better to show you than to tell you… tell it to heal."

A sound of disbelief passed my trembling lips, "Yeah, like that'll do anything."

Derek gave my hand a gentle squeeze, "Trust me."

I did… ignoring the fact that I barely knew this guy, I trusted him entirely. I sighed, "Heal."

That's just what happened. The skin practically glossed over the wound. Even the colour returned to somewhere close to "normal."

"What the hell…" I muttered, lowering my knees to a crossed-leg position as I admired my suddenly healed appendage, "I've been waiting for this goddamn bite to heal for a month. I've poured antiseptic on it! I don't know if you know what that is but it's medical _acid_!" I ranted.

There was a silence as we sat there… and I thought more about the bite, "Wait. I bit the night before a full moon… I know this might sound crazy… but…" He nodded, "Mother fucking ass chewing shit! A WEREWOLF?! I'M A WEREWOLF?!" I screamed. Derek quickly reached over and plastered his hand on my mouth. I continued to scream about being a werewolf before I finally calmed down.

Hesitantly he brought his hand away, "Why didn't I change on the first full moon? Isn't that the usual deal?"

He nodded again, "That's how it usually works. Unless your Alpha forced you not to change."

"Alpha… is that like… my master?" I asked.

"He's the one who bit you. He has an unnatural control over you. Forcing you to change, calling you out in the middle of the night." He continued to explain.

I took a second to think, "So… the naked treks through the woods?" He nodded, "Wow. This is… just a little bit intense. I can heal? So why didn't it?"

He just looked at me and sighed, "I'll tell you tomorrow."

Okay, that confused me a little, "Why not tell me now?"

"Because you're not going to be conscious much longer." Was his simple reply.

My mouth opened to respond when each of my joints that had relocated popped back into place and I let out a scream that followed me all the way into the darkness. Wow. Not only was Derek a werewolf, he was a psychic.

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**Author's Note: I'm so glad that people are liking this story! I'm even more glad that I have so much inspiration for it. Next chapter, a little heart to heart between Derek and Brooke. More like Derek giving her all the dirty deets. Lycan Lover 411, that's a good guess! I actually might put that into it somewhere, maybe not a half-wolf but maybe a great grandparent was a wolf and she's carrying the gene. I have no idea. But I know what's going to happen now. Next question, the scent? ;) I hope you all know what's going on with her werewolf senses. I don't want to have to spell it out! READ & REVIEW PEOPLE. I'D DO THE SAME FOR YOU.**** xoxo, Momma Love  
**


	9. Chapter 8: Chasing Pavements

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Eight: Chasing Pavements  
**

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A brilliant way to wake up in the morning is by being covered with little doggy kisses. It's something I had woken up to for a year. I dearly missed it when Kipper decided to freak out. Now I understand why and I don't blame him. Had something to do with the whole me being a freaking werewolf thing. But the doggy kiss wake-ups were back and I loved it. I sat up with some effort, seeing as Kipper was on my chest and joints were screaming at me. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes; I scratched my canine behind his ears. My serene morning was then ruined by the heart attack I was having.

Derek was standing in my doorway in his usual angry crossed arms stance. Guess he must've brought me back home after I passed out. That was… sweet. I gave him a weak smile, "Morning, sunshine." I groaned, swinging my legs over the bed and going into the bathroom. My hair was a right mess. I ran my fingers through it, yanking out some knots. When that didn't seem to do anything I made a face at my reflection and returned to confront my latest troubles.

I was a firm believer in facing your problems head on. I plopped down on my bed, ready for the worst. Peeing on fire hydrants and chasing cars, "Alright. Hit me with it." I said flippantly. I waved my hand, motioning for him to come closer. When he didn't move I looked at him, glared, and patted my bed a little more harshly than needed.

"Sit."

With a barely audible sigh, he complied. He sat at the very edge of the bed like a statue. That hard stare boring holes in my head, not saying anything.

"Pff, typical Derek. Angry silence. Okay, I'll direct the conversation. I'm a werewolf. Let's start there." I laughed in slight disbelief, "I can hear things from great distances as if they were right next to my ear and I can smell things. Like, you smelled like death yesterday, Scott smells like pine, and Stiles smells like pop rocks. It's really weird but I'm assuming it has something to do with me being lu_pin _and all."

He nodded, "Werewolves have enhanced animal like senses, enhanced strength, speed, healing, endurance, and stamina."

I laughed a little, "He speaks!" I didn't know a face could look so angry, "Sorry. Okay… do werewolves run on the lunar clock?" Another nod, "Then why haven't I "changed" until now?"

Another sigh, "Females are less likely to change because of rage or passion. They're meant to blend in easier to society to carry on their line. They only change by choice, force due to wolfsbane, or their Alpha wills them to. Usually their Alpha wills them on their first full moon so they don't feel as much pain as you did last night." He explained.

"Do you feel that sort of pain when you change?" I asked, fiddling with the fringe of my flannel, forcing myself to keep calm, to not freak out. Despite the jokes and the laughing, this whole thing was freaking me out.

"No. That's another female thing. They're smaller and during the shift into their form that causes physical distortion. After a few times the pain diminishes. Your body gets used to it, in a way." He said with a certain sort of sadness to his voice.

I caught the sadness, "How do you know so much about this?"

"I was born a werewolf. Let's just leave it at that." He said abruptly, standing and heading for the door, "That's all you need to know for now. The rest you'll learn along the way."

As if a supernatural force was driving me I shot out of my bed and placed myself between him and the door, "Wait." I started, "Those guys, at the gas station, they have something to do with this."

He shoved past me, "You don't have to worry about them until a full moon."

I felt my claws come through. I grabbed his arm with all that I had, out of fear, "Derek, I'm not what you call emotionally sound. Just tell me who they are so I can check that off my "worry" list, please?"

For a moment he looked conflicted, like he was going to leave, "… they're hunters. They've hunted our kind for hundreds of years… as long as you keep calm and you don't shift you'll be fine. They have no idea that any of you are werewolves. It's just me." He admitted.

"So… I don't have to worry about getting gunned down in the street?" I half-joked, to lighten the mood.

He smirked. Well, it was the closest thing to a smirk I had ever seen on that man's face, "No. Nothing to worry about."

A couple of days later and I was signed up to go back to work. I had taken off leave to "recover" from the accident. I got myself all ready to go too, my grey tee was nice and snug, my solid black flannel gave me a nice layer of warmth, my jeans were too tight to be completely sane, and my hiking boots alerted all who dared approach me that I had the foot power to curb stomp them to dust. I laughed to myself as I grabbed my keys, only to throw them right back. My truck was still in the shop. So, I simply checked Kippers food levels, grabbed my jacket, grabbed my house keys (which happened to be on the same keychain as my car keys), and headed out.

As soon as the door was shut and the deadbolt locked, I jumped five feet in the air, no joke. I was clinging to the gutters, looking down at Derek. Who was just leaning against my house, "Um, hi?" I offered from my awkward position, clinging to my roof.

"Where do you think you're going?" He asked.

Carefully I dropped to the ground, "Uh, work. It's that thing that gets me money." I said sarcastically, brushing off the gathered dust from my suede jacket.

He didn't look entertained, "Alone?" He asked, grabbing the collar of my jacket. What the hell was with this guy?

I shrugged him off, "Derek, I've walked to work before. I'll be fine. Besides, I think I can handle myself." I didn't let him tell me otherwise. I stormed off down the street. As I walked out to the road I blew warm air into my cupped hands. I was about half a mile down the road when, suddenly, there was Derek, clad in his usual all black attire. I laughed, "I think I can take care of myself. Seriously? I'm a werewolf too, you know."

He didn't even look at me, "You don't know how to shift at will. You're no stronger than you were before the transformation." He said rather morosely.

"Ouch. Thanks for the vote of confidence." I said sarcastically and I started to skip ahead. I turned to see his skeptical eyes on me, "You gotta learn how to smile every now and then. I mean, what if you find the girl of your dreams and your face is frozen in a permanent scowl? Well… if the girl of your dreams was dead that might work." I joked. He didn't look that entertained. I couldn't help the giggle that escaped me, "So, Stiles and Scott. Werewolves?" I said, abruptly changing the subject.

He shook his head, "Just Scott."

Oh. Well, "So, Stiles just knows about all of this?" He nodded.

And with that we ran out of stuff to talk about. The next few minutes were spent in absolute silence. I'll admit that it was a little unnerving. I decided to break the tension, in the only awkward way I could think. Talking. Like a total idiot. I tend to do that. Act like an idiot, anyway.

"I'm Brooke, by the way. Wait… you've called me by my name before. You know my name. My full name is Brooke-Lynn but I hate being called that." I paused to gauge his annoyed expression, "I'm not really trying to make conversation, I just start spewing when things get a little awkward. Or, in this case, a lot awkward. Uhh… well, I didn't go to school here. My mother-in-law thinks you're yummy and my father-in-law might think so too. I go to lacrosse games for no particular reason. I used to yell like a soccer mom and cheer but as of late I haven't been much of the extrovert that I used to be. Sad. But, life goes on. OH! And there's this weird scar on my right heel that looks like…"

My train of thought got interrupted by a pair of lips on mine. They were hard and demanding silence. I didn't really return the kiss; I was more-so taken by surprise. Derek pulled away, leaving me blinking like an idiot.

"Okay. No more words. Got it." I concluded, giving him a thumbs up. Once we started walking again I let him walk ahead so a massive blush could come across my face. It made the whole walking thing a little difficult. I stuck the tips of my left thumb in my mouth and bit down, to distract me. That didn't really work.

Another couple of minutes passed and the gas station came into view. Thank the lordie hallelujah! I let out an audible sigh of relief and ran towards my freedom. Of course, he followed me all the way there. I was about ready to pass through the automatic doors when a devious thought crossed my mind. If that bastard had the right to kiss me out of the blue… I smirked.

Quickly I turned, got on my tiptoes, and pecked him lightly on the lips, "Thanks for walking me." I said in a sincerely kind voice, leaving him to his devices in the cold. I caught a glimpse of his face just as the doors closed. Pure shock. Mission accomplished. I started cackling; I popped up the collar of my jacket and leapt over the counter only to be faced with Pam. Who just happened to be smiling like a complete idiot. I smacked my forehead with my palm. What had I done?!

"SPILL. NOW." She demanded, pointing to Derek, who was well on his way back to my place. I turned back around with a reluctant sigh, "No, no no no no no no no no! You do _not_ get to kiss beautiful guys like _him_ and then sigh like your _DOG DIED_. It's just not what you do!" She squealed. Grabbing my hands she proceeded to jump up and down. For a 40 year old, she was pretty limber. She stopped jumping only to start giggling like a school girl, "But what you will do is tell me all about it. What's his name, how old is he, how "big" is he, if you get my drift, and all that fun stuff! Now, chicka!"

I sighed, "Well…" That's when "big" hit me, "EW. PAM. OH MY GOD." She just giggled more. She was insufferable! … … Correction. SHE'S INSUFFERABLE, "Okay. He's Derek Hale and…" I would've continued with my speech but Pam's look of terror stopped me, "What?"

Her grip on my wrists tightened, "Brooke, sweetie, that was the boy who was accused of killing his sister." She informed me.

I had completely forgotten about the murdered girl, "I didn't know that…" I said quietly, thumbing at the corner of my lips, "He was cleared though, right?"

"Well, yes, but to have him as a suspect in the first place says something about his character!" She hissed in a whisper.

I rolled my eyes, "Just because he's a grumpy son of a bitch doesn't mean that he's a murderer. People just don't understand him, is all. I don't understand him all that well either, to tell you the truth." I explained,

The look on Pam's face turned from worry into even more worry, "I know, I just don't want you to fall into an unhealthy relationship!"

A laugh bubbled out of me, "One kiss, one. Technically two, but still! Pam, we're not going anywhere. Derek and I have just been thrown together by some… unfortunate circumstances. We'll be out of each other's hair before you know it." I assured her as I placed her cheeks in my hand, "Don't worry about any "unhealthy relationships"."

Her kind green eyes started to soften around the edges, "Well… if that's all there is between you…" She said, implying for me to finish her statement.

"There's nothing between us. He just walked me to work because of all the attacks lately." I continued to reason.

Now it was her turn to sigh, "If you say so sugar. Just… be careful?"

I nodded. If anything I'll admit that I had to be more careful. Too reckless and too headstrong. Not really a good thing when all other factors were involved. Emotionally unstable widow, hormonally unstable woman, and physically unstable werewolf. But, being more careful wouldn't stop what was bound to come. No matter how cautious you are, life always takes you by storm.

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**Author's Note (From Before): God I hate writing Derek. Partially due to the fact that he NEVER REALLY TALKS. I totally forget about that. He just scowls and glares all the time. So any meaningful conversation I promised you was never going to happen. I like to write in character. I might have to go back and edit things to make him sound more "Derek-y". Oh, and my Destial friend is not loyally shipping Sterek. WOOT! I love this grrl. Love her even more now that she's joined our universe. We're a young fandom, but damn are we loud and loyal. Love you all, thank you for the reviews, REVIEW MORE, give me theories, feedback, criticisms, yell at me for being a ninny. It happens. Kisses, xoxo - Momma Love**

**Author's Note (From Edit): Okay. I've fixed it. A lot of what was in this chapter will be in the next one. Sorry guys! Mess ups happen! Still, I love you all, thank you for your patience, the wi-fi at my school SUCKS.  
**


	10. Chapter 9: It's Time to Begin

**Grease Monkey **

**Chapter Nine: It's Time to Begin**

* * *

"It's time to begin, isn't it? I get a little bit bigger but then, I'll admit, I'm just the same as I was. Now don't you understand that I'm never changing who I am?" I sang as I locked up the station for the night. It was just me, headphones in my ear, mop in hand, dancing around like no one was watching. For all I knew, no one was anywhere near the station that late at night. Well… no sane person was. I got up to date with the attacks going on in town. Apparently there was a mountain lion killing people. I knew that wasn't true. It had to be the werewolf that bit me. Just thinking about that sort of stuff caused my blood pressure to spike. But, again, no sane person was out that late at night.

Off in the distance I could hear police sirens. Probably another attack. I pressed myself against the automatic doors, not so automatic after getting locked, and peered out. An ambulance and a stream of cop cars whizzed by. I couldn't see where they were headed but it looked like they were going into town. I shrugged. Not my problem. I turned around and I was going to continue mopping when I thought I heard a noise in the back. I took out my headphones to hear it better.

Not a peep. Subconsciously I sniffed at the air. Something was out of place. There was a distinct scent of… burning flesh. That's what I smelled the night I wandered into that house in the woods. It was absolutely revolting. Being the extremely curious critter that I was I placed my mop against the register and ventured towards the "employees only" door.

Just as I placed my hand on the door something grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back, forcing me out the glass of the automatic doors. I landed hard on my side, causing me to wince in pain. Whatever yanked me was out of the station in seconds, "Fuck!" I swore, scrambling to my feet and getting the hell out of there. Immediately I went for the tree line. When my pained side started to get in the way I yelled at it, "Heal, damn you!" That's one thing I loved. I could yell at my body and it would obey me. Now, if only I could become my little wolf self and get away! When my side began to heal I was able to run a bit faster, but not fast enough. I felt my flannel rip; I heard the stitching tear, as it was cast to the wind.

That's when I felt a surge of power. I looked at my hands. My nails started to protrude from their beds, the points of my canines nudged at my lips. I felt the instinct take over. I looked left, I looked right, trying to find a way out. My new accommodations allowed me to orient myself. I couldn't exactly go home. I don't think a door would stop the Alpha from ripping me to shreds. When a thin tree came up on my left I leapt at a horizontal, whipping around and planted my feet firmly in the monsters side, sending it crashing against another cluster of trees.

"_**You won't get away**__._"

Nothing like a voice from hell to kick you into motion! I scrambled back to my feet and continued to run. But it didn't matter how far I distanced myself from him, he probably memorized my scent. I'd have to get to where he'd have a hard time reaching me. As I ran I focused up to the trees. They were so tightly spaced that something as large as the Alpha would have a hard time maneuvering through it. I leapt at the nearest tree and climbed for all I was worth. I've climbed trees in my lifetime but these trees barely had any limbs on them. I had to rely on my claws to get me up. Meaning: the trees would have an even harder time supporting that freaks weight. I could actually here him struggling underneath me. I looked down and smiled. Promptly driving me to jump to another tree.

"_**I'll get you, someday…**_" The voice growled. That time I realized that there was no physical "voice", it was all in my head! I shook my head to shake his creepy voice from it. I then jumped through the trees for a while longer just to be certain that he was gone. Carefully, I sniffed at the air. No sign of that putrid scent. I was in the clear. Save for me being 60 feet in the air and no way down. My claws were gone, can't free climb anymore. I tested one of the branches below me, too wobbly for my tastes. The one I was sitting on was starting to freak me out even then.

A crazy thought crossed my mind as I hugged the life out of the tree. I summoned the wolf, who seemed to be cozying up by the fire somewhere, to try out my crazy theory. Eventually I felt it stretching and coming out to play again. Not to the extent where I was physically changed. I started to open my mouth when the branch underneath me gave way, sending me straight for the ground. Desperately I grabbed for other branches, only to have them break almost as soon as I touched them. But, they did help slow my momentum. Not enough for the flat-back landing to be anything other than excruciating.

I was winded. Each breath required extreme force and extreme pain. I kept thinking, "_Heal!_" to myself. If I was healing it wasn't healing fast enough to make a significant difference. As I laboured for each breath that crazy thought crossed my mind again. And with the wolf pawing at the confines of my skin to get out it was going to be much easier this time around. I opened my mouth and let out a pained howl, like in the movies. Wolves howling to other wolves and all that crap. It wasn't a good move if the Alpha was still in the area but I was dead meat anyway. With a lot of struggle I pushed myself against a tree. As I tested my moving capabilities I prayed to an unknown God. Hopefully, Scott or Derek would make it to me first.

Apparently it was my lucky day or my prayers had been heard. Derek burst through the tree line… at least… I thought it was Derek. His face didn't look quite right but he was wearing the grey shirt I left him in. As he approached me his face returned to the scowl I had grown to love, "What the hell are you doing?" He snarled. He grabbed my arm and yanked me to standing, causing me to scream out in extreme pain. I collapsed to my knees and looked up at him.

"Sorry… I didn't know what else to do…" I tried to explain to him. I probably looked pathetic. I didn't really care. I was in _sooooo _much pain, "The Alpha attacked me at the station and I…"

"What?!" He yelled, "Why didn't you…" He started to say before shaking his head and looking directly into my eyes, "Can you stand?"

I couldn't help my sarcastic look, "I collapsed, dip shit. You think I can stand?!"

He rolled his eyes and gently wrapped his arm around my shoulders as he hooked his other arm underneath my knees. It hurt like a bitch, but I sucked it up. I just grabbed at his shirt and bit back the pain.

"_**You shouldn't have let yourself known like that.**_"

My eyes nearly popped out of my head, "Derek. Run." I tried to warn him. He just looked at me, "He's coming, _run_!"

A felt the growl reverberate through him as he heeded my warning. He started to run back in the direction he emerged from. Expertly weaving in and out of the trees. The movement wasn't probably the best thing for my injured spine, I'd rather the pain than the whole dying thing. As we maneuvered through the woods I felt the pain begin to recede. I don't know if it was me getting used to the position I was in or if I was actually healing. I hoped it was the latter.

Eventually we came out of the woods, right near my house. He looked at me. I got the message. I sniffed at the air, no sign of that putrid smell, "We're safe." He nodded and led me inside. Once inside, Kipper was on us in seconds. Tearing at Derek's pant leg, "Down boy!" I said from my position in Derek's arms. Very, _very_, carefully he placed me on the couch, laying me out flat. I winced. The pain had diminished, making it bearable, but had not completely left me.

With me safely on my couch, Derek ventured into the kitchen. He went over to the stove and turned on one of the smaller eyes, placing the kettle on it. The thought of tea soothed me more. My eyes fluttered shut. Successfully preventing me from asking him how he knew I liked tea.

I woke up a couple of minutes later, the pain in my back almost gone, with a cup of tea awaiting me on the coffee table. I sat up. I stretched out my arms and cracked my neck. I was about to take a sip when I realized it lacked the sweet smell of honey. I always had honey with my tea, "Hey." I called to Derek who was busy putting the tea away in the kitchen. He barely paid me any attention, "Honey. In the cabinet next to the tea." I informed him.

He didn't look like he liked to be ordered around but he complied. He brought the honey over to me, sat down next to me, and said absolutely nothing. I laughed a little at that.

"Thanks. For saving my sorry butt." More silence. That's Derek for you.

I squeezed my usual amount of honey into my rose tea and stirred it with my spoon. I then brought the cup to my lips and took a sip. Being content with the amount of sweetness I thumbed the access honey from the spout of the contained and licked it off. Causing a shiver to run down my spine. I love honey. Always have. Always will. I was about ready to drink some more when I noticed that Derek was getting closer to me. I started to open my mouth to speak only to find Derek's lips on mine. His hand came up to cup my neck. The tip of his tongue pressed against my bottom lip, dipped into my mouth slightly, and he broke away.

The confusion on my face must've been evident. Because I was confused, "You had some honey on your lips." He said nonchalantly as he propped his feet up on the coffee table. I blinked a few times. Still thoroughly confused.

"So… you hate people." He shrugged, okay, half-truth, "But you openly kiss girls to shut them up and to get honey off their lips?" Another shrug, "Is this a common occurrence? I haven't been single since I was 13. I don't remember much from before I was dating but guys didn't really do that, that much I know." I rushed out, trying to gauge Derek's reaction. I think I would've had better luck trying to read a statue. He was just sitting there. Just sitting there with his arms crossed and that typical angry look on his face.

I sighed, "You are impossible." With that I started to stand, letting out a small groan when greeted with the pain. I felt Derek's hand on my back. Helping me the rest of the way up. I gave him a small smile and headed towards my room.

When Derek started to follow I stopped and turned, "Unless you want to join me in the shower, I think I can do this alone." I said sweetly with a side of cheekiness. Once in my room I closed the door behind me, and as I did, I heard a slight thumping in the distance. I got closer to the door. It had to be Derek's heartbeat. I smirked to myself. I liked telling myself that I caused the increased heart rate.

Carefully, I stripped off my clothing. My back was feeling a lot better. So I threw myself onto my bed to wiggle out of my jeans, "Stupid… pants…!" I gritted out. That's when I remembered my boots. Had to take off my boots first. I untied those and threw them across the room.

Back to the pants.

I hooked my thumbs into the waist and pulled them off, "Sweet freedom!" Was all I said when the last piece of fabric was removed from my skin. I was gloriously naked. And I swear I could hear someone chuckling. I ignored it and headed for the bathroom.

About half an hour later and I was squeaky clean and cleanly shaven with clean clothes and clean hair. Lots of cleanliness. My hair was done up in a sloppy bun at the top of my head, one of James' white shirts hung just below my hips, and a pair of my boy cuts were nice and snug up against my butt. My usual home attire. Seeing as I had no sex appeal it wouldn't matter if I walked around stark naked. I walked back out into the living area to find Derek looking at one of James' old books. His eyes drifted up to me, lingered, and then returned to the page he was reading. See? Zero sex appeal. I smiled to myself and went to grab my tea from in front of him. He barely gave me any of his attention. Just the way I liked it.

"You want anything to eat?" I asked him as I headed to the kitchen, "And how long are you even staying here?" He shrugged. I let out a laboured sigh, "Okay. For your information, I don't speak "shrug"!" I said with an exasperated tone. Again, he shrugged, "O_kaaaaaaay_. I'm making stir-fry. If you want any, just holler. Or… howl. Or bark." That earned me a glare. I held up my hands up defensively, "Your choice." So I reached into my nearly barren fridge and pulled out the bare basic, an onion, flat beans, mushrooms, and broccoli. From the freezer I got the chestnuts, and in the cupboard I pulled out the garlic and ginger. Well. I tried. It was way in the back. I had to get on my tiptoes to even get close. Still wasn't enough.

I landed back on my heels in a huff. I hated being short. And 5'5" isn't all that short! But I was determined. I hefted myself up onto my counter and I got up on my knees. The angle was awkward enough to not smack my head on the cabinet. Actually, I nearly fell back a few times. That is until I felt something up against my butt. I looked down to see Derek standing there with his hand supporting my rump. He wasn't looking at me. He was looking out towards the front door. I'll take what I can get. I reached back into the cabinet and wrapped my hand around the clove of garlic I had back there. I then fumbled around for the ginger. Eventually I got that too. When I tried to get down I was met with resistance. I looked back and wiggled my butt.

"Oi. Let me down." I commanded. But as soon as his hand was removed I fell back. Turns out he had yanked me back by my collar into his arms, "Oh, Derek, if you just wanted me in your arms, all you had to do was ask." I joked, removing myself and I headed over to the pantry, "Veggie oil, veggie oil, veggie oil." I practically sang. I opened the door and found both the veggie and the sesame oil. With one in each hand I flounced out of the pantry and closed it with my foot. When I came back, Derek was slicing the broccoli, the mushrooms, and my big honking onion.

That was fast.

And I really appreciated the help, "Thanks." I said in his direction. He looked up at me briefly before continuing his slicing and dicing. That was progress, at least. I pulled a frying pan out and placed it on the stove. When Derek stopped cutting, apparently looking for something. He opened the fridge and looked at me, "What are you looking for?" I asked.

He gave the fridge another look, "Meat."

I laughed, "I'm a vegetarian you idiot."

He let out a weird chuckle, "Let's see how long that lasts."

My hand dove into the bag of flat beans and I chucked a couple at him. More glaring. I smiled and returned to stirring the veggies in the pan. When he came over to dump the rest of the ingredients in I went a little crazy with the oils. This big plume of smoke puffed up in my face, causing me to retreat into Derek, "Mother of fuck!" I shrieked. Once the smoke dissipated, I felt the need to explain, "James did all the cooking. I fixed the cars and the leaky roof." I shrugged, getting back to my "cooking". If you wanted to call it that.

After half an hour or so, our feast was done. At the last minute I dished out my portion of food and threw some frozen slices of chicken in. For the big boy. Everything was as perfect as a stir-fry could get. Well, for me, that is. We took our plates over to the coffee table. I threw myself on the couch, a common occurrence, and Kipper followed suit. Jumping on my stomach and trying to get at my food.

"There's no meat in this you little carnivore!" I said as I tried to push him away, "Go bother tall, dark, and brooding over there. That's where the chicken's at!" And, to my surprise, right as Derek sat down Kipper was all over him, "What the hell. You can understand me yet you were trying to rip off my limbs for the past month!" I growled at my pup.

Derek arched a brow at me, "You do know your scent has changed since you became a werewolf. The competitive scent probably confused him and put him on the defensive." He said, forking a piece of chicken in his mouth.

I let that thought simmer for a second, "That makes sense. Guess I never really considered that _I _was the problem." As if hearing my self-pity, Kipper returned to me, lapping at my face with his nasty dog breath, "I get it, I get it! All is forgiven!" I said with a laugh. And that seemed to make him very, very happy.

That's when Derek suddenly stood and made his way to leave, "Thanks." He said, motioning to the empty plate he was placing in the sink.

"Anytime. Just… knock first." I said with a wave and a kind smile. And, Derek was gone. Much in his usual fashion. Now you see him, now you don't. Very Spider-Man-esque. I'm sure I've said that before. One time I called Derek Spider-Man. You can imagine his reaction.

Once my tummy was full of mediocre stir-fry, it really wasn't good at all; I started cleaning up the mess we made. Only to find that everything I had gotten out was neatly tucked away. I was only settled with cleaning the dishes used and putting them on the drying rack. What a chivalrous bastard. Cleaning the dishes only took a minute or two. That's when I warranted sleep time.

Seeing as I was already ready for bed I just started turning out lights. Couldn't have the electric bill running through the roof. I didn't have much money as it was. After all the lights were out and I was sure that everything was as clean as it could get I ran into my room and dove onto my bed. My only companions that night were Kipper the Wonder Dog, and the restless sleep I endured as I dreamed of a single man, nearly dying in a fire that killed the rest of his family.

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**Author's Note: GO REREAD THE LAST CHAPTER, I CHANGED IT. About 600 words less and cutting out part of the scene... oh, and... nicely placed "kisses"? I love writing this version of Derek. If you see ANYTHING from "The Tell" in the last chapter, PM me, yell at me in a review, unfavourite, do something to gain my attention so I'll go and fix it. I just couldn't scrap this chapter. I love the honey bit. And the cooking. Derek. Cooking. He's such a mother. ANOTHER DREAM SEQUENCE NEXT CHAPTER, AND MORE KISSES. Eventually leading up to something hot and heavy the episode after "Night School". ;) Keep reading! xoxo, Momma Love****  
**


	11. Chapter 10: Violet Roses

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Ten: Violet Roses**

* * *

That night I dreamed of a man. A fairly attractive man. He had wind swept chestnut brown hair and intelligent blue eyes. He was sitting on a porch, watching children play in the trees. There was a big grin on his face. Like he couldn't have been happier. A couple came out onto the porch from the house. But there was something off about them, I couldn't quite tell. The man had short, clean-cut, black hair, he was tall, standing a head and a half above the woman. Now she was a looker. Waist length honey brown hair, a petite build but had legs that looked like they could dance, and she was tucked perfectly into the man's side. Like they belonged together.

The chestnut haired, blue-eyed man approached the two, kissing each one on the cheek. When he turned back around, he noticed the children running towards him. He picked the smallest boy up and swung him around. In each of their hands was a bouquet of purple flowers. They were beautiful. He picked one of the dainty flowers up and braided it into one of the little girl's hair. She giggled and ran back to play with her cousins and siblings. The man chuckled, pleased by his surroundings. But, again, something wasn't quite right with them. I think the man I was dreaming of realized the same thing. That something was wrong. He turned back to the couple on the porch…

Only to find that they were on fire. And the thing that was wrong with them? They had no faces. The couple, the children, complete nothingness. The woman reached out to him, "Save us…" She croaked, her throat dry from the smoke of the fire. Her skin cracked and peeled from her skin. The blue eyed man turned frantically towards the children. They were running across the yard, the girl's hair ablaze from the flame, the boys laughing as they tried to catch them. The purple flowers disintegrated, too weak to withstand the fiery intensity of the fire. Few landed in the man's hand. As soon as the feathery texture touched his skin, his skin became blackened and distorted. A scream reverberated through him, a scream unlike any I had ever heard.

I was awake a second later. James' shirt clung to me due to my own sweat. I couldn't get my sheets off of me quick enough. On my way to the bathroom my shoulder collided with the door. Did I care? Hell no. I grabbed the edge of the toilet and emptied the contents of my stomach. All that stir-fry Derek and I had worked so hard on? Gone. Poof. Well, not so fluffy as "poof". I pulled myself away to gauge my reflection in the mirror. I looked like absolute death.

My skin was whiter than paste, my eyes glowing an unnatural blue, and the underside of my eyes were edging on black. I ran the water, splashed some on my face… when I realized that I wasn't wearing James' shirt anymore. Well, I was but there wasn't much left of it. It was scorched. In an odd sort of pattern too. Like… claws. I ripped the rest of the shirt off to reveal a nasty burn all across my chest. Again, in the shape of claws. Huge, unnatural claws. Like…

I hung my head over the toilet and upchucked. Ugh. Disgusting. I pulled myself away to examine my chest. It came right across my right breast in a diagonal dipping down towards my navel. It even distorted the tattoo on my collarbone. "Forever". Yeah. Load of bullshit. It stung like a bitch too. I told it to heal… I felt no inclination that it was. Then I said it out loud. Still nothing. That worried me slightly. I pulled the mirror away, opening the medicine cabinet, and I tried to find some burn cream. I had some, nearly gone. I squeezed the remainder out and rubbed it over the most painful parts… mainly my breast. It soothed, but only slightly. Not enough to make a difference.

After letting it dry I returned to my room and I tried to find something loose that wouldn't bother it. It was hard, but I managed. I pulled an old ratty tank over my head and I carefully placed myself back underneath my covers. Lucky for me it was a cool night. A cool breeze wafted through the room. My eyes fluttered shut, only to open a second later, "That was closed…"

Eventually I would fall asleep that night. Mostly because I remember Derek giving me another heart attack the following morning.

I woke up the next day, my day off, to the sound of my back door getting kicked in. The force I used to shoot myself up hurt my shoulder, still no better than the night prior. I ran out into the living area to see Derek, shirtless, panting against the pantry door. I started to walk towards him. As I got closer I saw long cylindrical wounds covering his entire torso and abdomen.

"Holy hell… what made these?" I asked when I was finally in front of him. He snarled at me, I ignored it. Oh so carefully I brushed my fingertips over the welts. His back arched against my touch yet he looked in pain. He was practically covered head to toe in sweat. I really hated seeing him like that, "Derek, don't bite my head off." I asked as I wrapped his left arm over my shoulders. Hurt like a bitch, I'm telling you, and I think he noticed my physical inhibitions. I didn't care. I supported him all the way to the couch, gently lowering him towards it. He grunted out in pain and just as I pulled away he fisted at my shirt.

"What the hell is that?" He snarled, eyeing the wound.

To tell you the truth, I had several burn scars all over my body. This one was just huge. It was easy to wiggle my way out, "Burns from a straightener. Gotta be more careful when it comes to hair care." I lied with moderate smoothness. The look on his face told me that he didn't like my answer but he was going to except it. He released his hand from my shirt, "Let me get you something to drink." I offered, standing and heading towards the kitchen, "Is beer okay?"

"Whiskey." He gritted out.

For whatever reason, I blushed. I pulled out an old bottle of whiskey from the cupboards and poured him a glass. I cast a glance in his direction. Kipper was there, suddenly. I'd noticed that as of late, Kipper coming and going as he pleased. Now, he was sitting on Derek's chest, much to his distaste. Derek was groaning and I was giggling, even more to his distaste. I could feel his glaring eyes on me as I came back with his drink. Kipper jumped to his lap as he sat up. I handed it to him carefully only to have it ripped from my hand and downed in seconds.

I laughed, "No need to be vicious." He simply glared, "Oh, that's right. You only speak two languages, vicious and shrug." He still didn't say anything. He just shoved the glass back towards me, clearly implying that he wanted another, "Your wish is my command, my majestic asshat." I said with a curtsy and a sarcastic smile.

Back in the kitchen I poured Derek another glass. Maybe he thought I wasn't looking, but he was scratching Kipper behind his ears. If it weren't for the completely different physique, appearance, and demeanor, I'd think I was looking at James, home from a hectic day at Beacon Hills Elementary. He'd regale me with stories of tantrums and mishaps with finger-painting as he drank his alcoholic beverage of choice. I miss those days. It was simpler then. No werewolves, no mysterious "mountain lion" attacks, and no Derek. So if you got rid of the first problem the rest wouldn't even matter.

But, those days were long gone. So I grabbed some sort of herbal fusion juice from the fridge and returned to Derek with his drink in tow. When he went to grab for it I kept it out of his reach, "No. Bad dog." I teased. Only after lowering his hand did I place it on the table in front of him. Hey, I've already housetrained one dog; I'm fully capable of training another. Smirking at that thought I sat down next to the brooding man, "So, you going to tell me what happened?" I asked, sipping at my juice thing. Which, by the way, tasted like liquid garbage.

"It's none of your business." He grumbled before downing the whiskey.

I could only glare at him. It took him around 30 seconds for him to turn and look at me, "Listen here, high and mighty. If you're going to constantly use my house as your personal bomb shelter and not have the decency to knock, your business is my business. So tell me what's going on before things get nasty." I threatened with a sickly sweet smile.

He might not have found me threatening, in fact I know that he didn't the chuckling bastard, but he looked as if he was going to oblige my demands, "Fair enough." He muttered, "If you really want to know, a group of hunters came by my place. They attacked, I ran."

"I thought you said we only have to worry about them on full moons?" I asked, propping my feet up on my worn coffee table.

He shook his head, "_You_ don't have to worry about them, they have no idea you're a werewolf. They've known about me for years meaning I'm still in danger the other 27 days of the lunar cycle." He lamented, pushing his empty glass towards me.

I couldn't help rolling my eyes, "Wow, I feel like a slave." I groaned while grabbing the glass and standing. Once I was back in the kitchen and pouring my frequently unexpected house guest yet another drink I called over to him, "You know, if you keep this up you're going to be staggering back through the woods seeing as I have no car to drive you."

Derek scoffed, "That won't be an issue." He said, "Werewolves can't get drunk."

'_You're freaking kidding me._' I thought as I slammed the half empty bottle of whiskey on the counter, "Can you repeat that for me?" I asked.

"Werewolves can't get drunk."

It took everything in my power not to throw the bottle against a wall, "Just my freaking luck!" I said loudly as I started to pace the length of my kitchen, "I'm a good law abiding citizen, I've refused every single drink I've been offered in my adolescence, and where does that get me? That gets me a werewolf bite that just so happens to inhibit the one part of my life I was extremely excited for!" I yelled, never ceasing my pacing, "That's why my life sucks, no matter how much good I put into the world, no matter how many smiles and good intentions I give, shit still gets taken from me!" I threw my hands up in the air, "That's it. I'm done. I'm going to L.A. to whore myself out." I concurred as I headed towards the door.

Before I could even grab my coat, Derek blocked my path without as much as a word.

"You know, your weird Jedi silence thing is really irritating." Silence, "You just _loooove_ pissing me off, don'tcha?" Even more silence, "Figures." I tried to shove past him but he proved to be quite a hard force to move, "Do you mind?" I asked, motioning for him to move. He crossed his extremely ripped biceps over his extremely ripped body. A body I hadn't taken notice to until then. Already a blush bloomed across my cheeks, "Okay. Fine. I won't become an upscale hooker, but would you pl_ease_ put a shirt on? I feel overdressed."

He chuckled and headed towards my room. God that man got under my skin in all the wrong ways. Upon emerging a minute or so later he was wearing one of James' grey tee's. And damn did it fit him well.

"Thank you." I said quietly before throwing myself onto the couch. It was pretty hard to keep my eyes from metaphorically eating him up so I grabbed one of James' old books and buried my nose in it. I had half-expected Derek to leave but instead he sat down next to me and picked up a book as well. I glanced at him, "Well isn't this cozy. You and me, sittin' here by a theoretical fire, sipping theoretical tea, and enjoying theoretical company." I said with plenty of sarcasm to spare. He smirked, only slightly. Damn man and his silence, "You know what, get that book out of your lap."

I paused, waiting for him to do so. He didn't. So I moved it for him. I then placed my head in his lap. He just looked down at me.

"What? If you're going to treat me like a surrogate mother then I'm going to do as I wish." I concluded, propping my book on my knees and thoroughly enjoying some good old fashioned literature… I wanted to shoot myself in the head.

I'm not a reader. I don't do Twilight or The Vampire Diaries. The only thing I read is the paper and I haven't even done that as of late. So I pretended to read the book, Withering Heights, I think, as I was lying down on Derek's lap. I inhaled and exhaled… I inhaled again. I turned my head towards Derek's stomach and inhaled, "What?" He asked.

I planted my nose against his abdomen and sniffed, ignoring him/giving him a taste of his own medicine. There was something… a scent. It was muffled but it was there. I shamelessly lifted his shirt and pressed my nose against his skin, "It's you!" I exclaimed, shooting up and hitting my head against the corner of the book Derek was reading, "Ow."

Derek arched an eyebrow at me and righted his shirt.

"Your unique 'scent' has been haunting me wherever I go! It's maddening! Jesus Christ. You need a new aftershave or something." I said with moderate nonchalance and a wave of my hand.

My eyes connected with Derek's. Something was tumbling around behind those faint green eyes of his, "What do you mean by 'haunting' you?" He asked, his eyes serious.

He had a good point, what did I mean? "Well… ever since I was _blessed_ with the furry curse I've noticed this certain combination of whiskey, cinnamon, leather, musk, and what I now know to be werewolf. It there when I'm running, when I'm working, it pretty much follows me wherever I go. Freaky thing, this werewolf… thing." I said vaguely.

"… Interesting." Was his even vaguer response.

I shrugged, "Eh. Not really. You're just very fragrant." I said as I scrunched up my nose.

Derek snorted slightly and we went back to our silence. I laid my head back down in his lap. I even started to doze off once and awhile. I brought up my hand to my mouth to cover it as I yawned. After I decided that I was going to stay awake I focused on my breathing. In, out, in, out, and so on. Not that I'd ever admit it to Derek but I _really_ liked his scent. Like… really _really_ liked it. I inhaled and exhaled a few more times before forcing myself out of his personal space. Needed to get away from that man!

I looked back at him and sighed, "God, I could use a drink." I groaned, lifting my sorry butt off of the couch and towards the kitchen. I pulled a beer out of the fridge and used my palm to pop the cap against the counter. I watched Derek as he watched me, smirking, "Oh shut it. I've been through quite the ordeal, if you haven't noticed." I said, waving the bottle at him before taking a swig. Ugh. Tasted like fermented pigs feet. I forced it down, trying to look cool. I probably failed miserably at that. Deciding that looking cool didn't make up for gagging; I went to put the bottle back in the fridge. Upon standing I came face to chest with Derek, the big bad wolf himself.

He lifted the thin strap of cloth off my shoulder, "You going to tell me the truth about this, yet?"

I swallowed past the lump threatening to form in my throat, "I… I honestly don't know."

"You're lying."

My blue eyes glowered at him, "I really have no clue. I fell asleep, no mark. Woke up, helluva mark. All I know is that my window was open and I'm pretty sure that I shut and locked it last night." I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose when I felt a breeze on my stomach. I looked to see Derek lifting my shirt, of all things, "Excuse you!" I barked, yanking my tank out of his grip.

He ignored me and lifted my shirt again, "Why hasn't it healed?"

I shrugged, "Your guess is as good as mine."

He looked up briefly and grazed his fingers over the charred flesh. I hissed slightly and unconsciously arched into his touch. I looked up at him, hoping he didn't notice. Oh, he noticed. He was smirking deviously. I breathed deeply in an attempt to settle my raging emotions. It did nothing if not flare the flames. I don't know what came over me but I slid my hand across the hollow of Derek's neck. Next thing I knew I was on my tiptoes pressing my lips gently against his. I lowered back to the ground after a second or two, realizing what I had done.

"Sorry…" I mumbled, thumbing my bottom lip, "I don't know what-" Whatever I was going to say was silenced by Derek's lips on mine. I don't even remember what I was trying to say. All I knew was Derek was kissing me and I liked it. His left hand was holding the back of my neck as he fiercely worked over my mouth and his right gripped my hip tight. My hands settled on his chest, fisting at the soft, knit, fabric. It had been quite a long time since I had kissed anyone so feverishly. He nipped at my lips with his thumb pressing ever-so-slightly against my pulse, forcing us to be hyperaware to it.

As he pulled my hips into his own I felt my wolf side start to come through. He must have sensed it. He suddenly dipped his head down to my neck and started to tongue the pulse. His mouth taking place of his thumb. I small gasp escaped me and a dark chuckle reverberated against my skin. I wasn't quite sure how to react. My knees started to give way but I didn't want it to end. Derek then lifted me up and sat me down on the counter, his mouth never ceasing its movements. I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him close. It was strange, just a second ago we were reading books quietly on the couch. Now? Derek was making love to my body with his mouth. I grabbed a fistful of his hair and lifted his head up so I could passionately press my lips against his.

As soon as my mouth was on his again I was nipping at it like my life depended on it. I have no idea where that side of me came from but I'm not going to lie, I was started to like it. I grabbed hold of his shirt again when I realized it… he was wearing James' shirt. James… I was kissing another man I barely knew in our house. My mouth stopped working momentarily and Derek resumed his magic against my throat and the hollow of my neck. My mind flooded with all of the intimate touches James and I shared, once upon a time. They were almost forgotten with Derek's hips pressing against mine. James was turning into a lost memory.

"Wait…" I breathed, pushing Derek away, "I… I can't." I said quietly.

Derek practically growled. Not in anger, but in passion. He wanted me back in his arms. And I desperately wanted to put myself there. But I couldn't… not then.

"I want to, I really do," I explained, "but… come on. You're wearing my dead husband's shirt!" I exclaimed, "I'm sorry but the wounds are still too fresh. I-" I was about to continue when my cellphone rang. I dug my hand into my pocket to see that it was Melissa McCall, "Hey, Melissa!" I said, only slightly winded.

"Hey, Brooke. I really need a favour." She pled.

I pressed my index finger into my free ear, "Ask away!"

"My car is making this God awful noise and I was hoping you could check it out during the parent-teacher conference tonight. I'm running errands right now and it's really starting to scare me!" She said in a moderate eccentricity. Typical Melissa.

I laughed, "Totally. I have today off so I'll drop by before my shift at the station."

She made a sound that implied indecisiveness, "Could you do it in the school parking lot? It's mighty cold out and I _reeeaally_ don't feel like walking."

"Definitely." I assured her. Melissa was a good friend and I was happy to help.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you! I'll let you get back to what you were doing, then." She said before her phone clicked off. I looked up, hoping to talk to Derek, but he was already gone. To tell you the truth I expected it of him. Unless the confrontation involved violence I could tell he would have a million places he'd rather be. I decided to chalk up that day to "werewolf date-night" and I put it miles behind me.

If only that was true. Sadly; it would haunt me for the rest of my werewolf life.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hot damn that was hot! Sort of jealous of Brooke... then I have to remember that she's not real! I'm back! Sorry that this is two months overdue; but it's longer than the rest! Hope that makes up for it! I know it doesn't, but a writer can hope! Read and review, as always, I love to hear what you guys have to say! :) Much love! xoxo, Momma Love**


	12. Chapter 11: I Am Phoenix

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Eleven: I Am Phoenix**

* * *

"Stupid… stupid… stupid…"

I had been muttering that to myself for about eight hours. Ever since Derek left and up to the point where I was getting ready to head to the school to take a look at Melissa's car. Why did I push him away? Because he was wearing my dead husband's shirt? _I_ wear my dead husband's shirts! It's completely ludicrous. It was almost the anniversary of his death and I hadn't been with a guy since. Unless you count those few odd moments with Derek when I couldn't tell if he liked me or liked messing with my head. Ugh. Life. It sucks.

So, there I sat. Tapping a wrench against my forehead muttering, "Stupid… stupid… stupid…" Over and over and over again. I probably would've sat there all night if I wasn't so absurdly loyal to my friends. I promised Melissa McCall I would check out her car so check out her car I will! I threw the wrench I was abusing my head with into my toolbox and I went into my room to find something more appropriate to wear out into the cold.

Skimpy tank top and skimpy shorts were not gonna cut it. That decided, I tugged on a pair of sweatpants and I zipped myself up into a Victoria's Secret sweater. The only nice sweater I had! And the only thing in my closet that cost me more than 30$. When I was all bundled up I pulled on my hiking boots and headed out, giving Kipper a kiss as I left.

About half an hour later I was at the school watching a couple parents dragging their children through the front doors. I chuckled to myself. Suckers. I shook my head and got down to business. My blue eyes scanned the parking lot for the McCall family car. It was parked right out front. In previous situations such as these Melissa would leave the keys on top of one of the back tires. The problem was that it looked extremely shady, me hunched over checking the tires of a car people knew wasn't mine. Everyone in town knew I was a little zany so you can only assume what they were assuming.

So I found the keys where they usually were and used them to get into the car and pop the hood. My eyes glanced over every inch of the engine trying to find anything that was out of place. Besides a bit of rust there wasn't anything obviously wrong with it. I scratched the back of my head, 'Guess I'll have to try it out, see what ticks!' I thought, moving away from the front of the car, going to lean over the driver's seat and sticking the keys in the ignition.

There was this weird rattling sound each time I turned the key. Usually rattling meant a loose valve. I turned off the car and returned to peering under the hood. I caught sight of the valve still settling after the engine had been turned on then off. I expertly reached in with a small wrench and tightened it. After revving the engine again and no more unusual sounds to be heard, I packed away my tools and waited for Melissa and Scott to finish their meeting… not so secretly I hoped that they could at least drive me home for my services.

It was another ten minutes or so before I saw Melissa exiting the school with her phone placed firmly against her ear, "Scott, you need to call me _right_ now." She said harshly into the receiver before hanging up.

I approached her, "What's going on?" I asked, causing her to jump.

"Oh, it's just you, Brooke." She sighed in relief, "Scott was supposed to be at this meeting with me but he never showed." She said, letting out an angry puff of air.

"I'm sure he's fine." I reasoned.

She started laughing, "He better be okay, because I'm going to kill him!"

"Melissa, that isn't necessary." I said jokingly as something in the distance caught my attention. It was that damn jack ass who put a rifle through Derek's car window. Well, it wasn't the same guy, but it was his ringleader.

He was talking into his cell phone. I trained my ears to hear better, "Allison, answering your cell phone will make determining the terms of your grounding much easier." He said in a cold, angry, fatherly tone, "You will call me back before your punishment reaches biblical proportions." He finished.

Behind him a woman approached, I could only assume it was the wife, "Kate hasn't heard from her either."

I was so concentrated on what they were saying I completely missed Melissa approaching them. I turned the werewolf off and ran to catch up with her, "You're not Allison's parents, are you?" She asked the couple, "I'm Scott's mom and I hate to say it but he's not answering his phone either." She explained. The man turned his attention to her, his eyes briefly settling on me. He recognized me. Good thing, too. Hope he'd get arrested for what he did.

"You're Scott's mother?" He asked almost rudely.

Melissa leveled him a look of disbelief, "Funny how you say that like it's an accusation." She returned in her usual sassy fashion.

"Well I wouldn't claim it as a source of pride since he basically kidnapped my daughter today." He said so viciously I almost slapped him.

"How do we know skipping school wasn't your daughter's idea?" I asked, my arms crossed tight against my chest, "I remember being her age, I remember wanting to do something reckless every now and then. Besides, she has a car. He doesn't."

The wife glared at me, "And who are you, exactly?"

I smiled ever-so sweetly at her, "I'm a family friend. And I'm the one who watched one of your husband's lackey's bust out a guy's window at the gas station the other day."

The old man leered at me. I stood my ground, "For your information my daughter…" He paused and looked behind us. I didn't have to look to know that Scott was there. Same pine, same Axe, same werewolf. Allison's dad sighed, "is right there." Everyone turned. Sure enough, Allison and Scott were nervously standing beside her car. Melissa approached her son and I wasn't far behind her.

"Where, exactly, have you been?" She asked, her arms crossed.

Scott tried to speak gently, "Nowhere, mom…"

"Nowhere meaning 'not at school'?" She continued to ask.

He looked desperate of saving. His brown eyes darting from Allison to me. I could only shrug. I wasn't getting in her way. No one in their right mind got in Melissa McCall's way. Finally, Scott admitted, "Kinda…?"

Next to him, Allison pitched in, "It's not his fault." She explained, "It's my birthday and we were just-"

"Allison." Her father interrupted. Uncomfortably close to me, he was. I sort of wanted to stomp on his foot… for good measure, "In the car." He commanded, motioning to her vehicle. That's when someone screamed.

The Argent family problems were momentarily forgotten as we all frantically looked for the source or the cause of the screaming. Nothing seemed particularly out of the ordinary so I started sniffing at the air as subtly as I possibly could. The only unusual smell I could pick out of the crowd was the burning flesh. A good indicator that the Alpha was near.

I grabbed Scott by the arm and pulled him away from everyone, "He's here."

He arched a confused brow at me, "Who's here?"

"God." I groaned, "The Alpha, you ninny!" He made a noise of understanding and we proceeded to scan the area as frightened parents and children practically dove into their cars. I'll admit it was hard to see. Hard to tell what could be a vicious homicidal werewolf from the dozens of people running around like chickens with their heads cut off!

Scott started walking out into the parking lot, "What do we do?" He asked.

"Your guess is as good as mine." I lamented.

After a few more seconds of searching, we finally caught sight of the thing. It was crouched low, hiding behind a car. Scott locked onto it, his eyes turning gold. I looked around to see if anyone was watching. They weren't, but Allison was venturing farther away from her werewolf hunter daddy: a good person to be beside during a possible werewolf attack! Not only was she away from her dad, she was drifting into traffic. I nudged Scott and pointed to her, "Allison!" He yelled as he ran towards her.

He successfully got her out of the way so I could return my attention to the more important task at hand. The Alpha was on the move, catching the eye of the Sheriff, "Move," He ordered those around him, "move!" He began pushing people out of the way only to have a car back right into him.

"Shit!" I swore. I would've gone to the Sheriff but I needed to stop that thing from hurting anyone else. I started to chase after it only to have my attempts thwarted by Allison's dad. His gone went of twice, burying two bullets into the flesh of… a mountain lion. It was a mountain lion, not the Alpha. The headless chickens stopped running about frantically and started to close in on the poor animal.

No one said a word. They just looked at the thing that they believed had caused so much harm. Scott and I both knew that it was just an innocent bystander in a sociopath's master plan. I approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, before heading home. I didn't want to stick around. But, for good measure, I sniffed at the air. Still the smell of burning flesh lingered. The Alpha was close. Probably got off knowing that the people of Beacon Hills thought they were safe. I didn't particularly care.

I just wanted to go home and go to bed.

But is my life ever that simple? Of course, as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was dreaming. Always with the god damn dreams.

I dreamt of myself. Sitting with my legs crossed on my bed I was stitching up a pair of disintegrating converse. A reoccurring ritual. As I stitched and sowed, I didn't notice the lanky figure in my doorway. It was the man with the Chestnut hair but his face was now grotesque and deformed instead of smooth and handsome. He looked upon me with a curious eye. It disturbed me.

I looked up from my sowing, "What the hell are you doing here?" I asked.

He chuckled, "Just checking up on you."

"Why?"

He shrugged with a weird smile on his face, "I want you to feel my pain."

I directed an incredulous look at him, "Excuse me?"

Slowly, he moved towards me. Only when he was right in front of me did he say, "I want you to know the pain that I felt." He said, reaching his hand up towards my face. His rough skin brushed across my check and suddenly my room was up in flames and he was gone.

I shot up out of bed, relieved that it was only another god damn nightmare… but it wasn't. My room was actually on fire. And, by the status of my almost-burned-to-a-crisp bed, I'd say the fire had been roaring for some time.

Frantically I threw myself off my bed, cautious to avoid the flames, as I extinguished my shirt. There wasn't enough carpet that wasn't on fire for me to safely escape. I could barely move without catching something on fire! But… I had to get out. I shook my head of my inhibitions, held my breath, and charged out of my room. I cursed quietly to myself at the tenderness of my feet. Luckily they hadn't actually caught fire.

"Kipper!" I called out, ending in a cough. My throat was bone dry; I hadn't noticed it earlier. And if that wasn't enough, my eyes were stinging like mad and I needed to find an itty bitty Jack Russell-Beagle terrier when I was incapable of seeing ten inches in front of my face. And why the hell wasn't the fire alarm going off?

There wasn't time for me to worry about that. I called for Kipper one more time. His whining could be heard from the couch. Knowing him, he was under it. Seeing as there was no way around the coffee table I just picked it up like it was nothing and threw it towards the front door. With that out of the way I dove down to the floor. I could see Kipper trembling back against the wall. His ears were pressed flat and his whining could practically break your heart.

He clearly wasn't moving. Usually when I needed to coax him out from under the couch I'd lay out his favourite blanket and he'd just come bounding out. I didn't have time to find the goddamn thing, "Come on, baby. It's okay!" I cooed. He didn't budge. Guess I'd have to improvise the blanket. I yanked off my shirt and beckoned him towards it. Hesitantly he started to move in my general direction. Once he was within arm's reach I yanked him out and wrapped him up in the cloth. As I stood to run I found myself hacking profusely. Being a werewolf wasn't enough to save me from the flames. So I guess I'd have to be my own saviour.

I tucked my chin to my chest, held my breath, and barreled at the back door. It didn't give way easily but I managed to break it down after I took my foot and put it through the door handle. Ignoring the splinters I ran outside and headed straight for the tree line. Me being so exhausted from the whole ordeal I planted my back against a large oak and slid all the way to the ground. In my arms, Kipper was wiggling about and looking up at me with his big eyes… it was like he was trying to warn me.

"What is it?" I asked.

He looked back towards the house. A black silhouette stood against the inferno and was approaching us slowly. As it moved, it started to change. From a man to… something I couldn't describe. All I knew is that it made my skin crawl.

Deep in my subconscious I could hear something growling, "_**Do you feel it? Do you feel my pain?!**_"

"Holy shit!" I cursed. Before I even knew what I was doing I was scrambling to my feet and running through the woods, "You _seriously_ need to get a life!" I yelled towards the night sky. The thing growled in response.

Weaving in and out of the trees would've been a piece of cake any other day. But my lungs were full of smoke and I was significantly handicapped. I wasn't moving nearly as fast as I should've been. And I have no idea where I was going. I just kept running, despite my burning lungs and legs. Every now and then I'd clip a tree; scratching up my arm pretty badly. Honestly, if my night couldn't get any worse, I ran right into a boulder. I fell backwards, landing painfully on my ass.

"What the hell are you doing out here?"

I rubbed my eyes before squinting up at the talking boulder. It was Derek, his arms crossed and his eyes questioning. I waved my hand flippantly, "Running from the Alpha, again." I wheezed.

My physical restrictions must've caught his attention because he was eye level with me in seconds, "You're hurt?" He asked.

I nodded, "House caught fire and I ran into a few trees."

With a slightly worried expression he reached for my hand and helped me stand, "Get inside and wait there until I get back." He commanded before running back towards my house. I wasn't in any position to object so I turned and wandered into Derek's ramshackle house. I had no idea I was even at his place. Guess it was the luck of the draw. Once inside, Kipper jumped from my arms and I stumbled towards what looked like a couch. It wasn't long before my knees gave way. I collapsed onto the couch but my knees didn't quite go far enough. So I just leaned against it as Kipper started licking my burned feet. I'll admit, that made them feel better.

* * *

**Author's Note: Another chapter, kind of short. Sorry :/ but this is pretty much filler. Things will hopefully pick up in the next installment. Perhaps more kisses? :O Who knows. Depends on what I'm in the mood for. xoxo, Momma Love**


	13. Chapter 12: Dawn Ryder

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Twelve: Dawn Ryder**

* * *

Eventually I would feel much better. It only took a few minutes, thanks to the glorious werewolf powers I possess. The burns on the bottom of my feet healed and all of the smoke had left my lungs. But of course the mark across my chest was stubborn and refused to go away. I picked at the edges. The scab/burn was really itchy. That's when I noticed that I wasn't wearing a shirt. Kipper was still curled up in its remains, shaking like mad.

"Oh, baby…" I cooed, rubbing my hand over his charred fur. His little body quivered as I touched him. It killed me, knowing that I couldn't do a goddamn thing to help him. So I placed my hand on his side to soothe him.

After a few minutes of just sitting there with my hand on him, my arm started to hurt. I tried to ignore it but it was slowly getting worse. It got to be so painful I ripped it away. With my claws peeking through, I grabbed my forearm and watched my arteries expand and dilate, pumping some sort of black substance from my hand to the rest of me.

I blinked a bit at it, "What the fuck…?" I whispered.

As I looked over my appendage, Kipper jumped into my lap. He was yipping and licking at my chin. I had absolutely no idea what was going on. From the pain to my pup's sudden recovery, it was unexplainable. Well, so was being a werewolf. Guess explaining things was getting more and more difficult.

While I was distracted by everything, I didn't notice Derek slip in. Only when he was next to me did I react. My right arm flailed out, smacking him underneath his chin, and I let out a small yelp. Upon realizing it was Derek, I could tell by his signature glare, I laughed.

"You idiot, don't sneak up on me." I said, still chuckling. His expression didn't lighten, "You know, you kind of look like a serial killer with that constant frown on your face." I offered flippantly with an even more flippant wave of my hand.

His brow furrowed, "I grabbed this. It was ringing." He grumbled, handing me my slightly injured iPhone.

I gasped, "Dude! You know what the lady needs!" I joked, unlocking my phone and looking at the call history. I had a voicemail. Several voicemails to be specific… well, not several. I had three. I hit the oldest one and placed the phone against my ear. It was Melissa.

"Hey, Brooke, it's Melissa, never got the chance to thank you for the free inspection… again. I don't know what I'd do without you!" Her ecstatic voice rang through the phone, "So, thank you, and it was really nice to see your former sassy self backing me up with Allison's parents. I really appreciate it. If you ever need anything, I'm your girl!" And with that, the voicemail was over.

I immediately went to the next one, it was Cooper, a guy at the shop, "Your order of bullet proof windows and windshields just came in. You fixing the presidents car or somethin'? Eh. Not my business. Lates."

Cooper was so easily distracted and morose. What a weirdo. But! Derek's order came in. I turned towards him, "The bullet proof crap you ordered's in the shop." I informed him.

For whatever reason, he looked impatient. He was looking at _me_ impatiently. I ignored him and selected the last voicemail. It wasn't from a number I recognized. I mentally shrugged and put the phone back to my ear.

"My dad just got an anonymous tip that a fire broke out at your house? Are you okay? Did you get burned? Think it'll scar? What happened?" That level of hyperactivity could only mean Stiles. Then someone in the background chastised him. Probably his dad yelling at him to stop listening to his calls, "I gotta go… but call me back at this number… this is so cool!" He said excitedly just as the message clicked out. That kid needed to get off the Adderall.

I chuckled as I threw my phone onto the couch I was leaning against. My chuckling soon ceased due to Derek's frowning face. I rolled my eyes, "_What?_"

"Your house just caught fire." He stated.

I rolled my eyes, again, "Thanks, didn't know that." I said sarcastically with a sarcastic thumbs up.

His glare got even more… glary… "Any normal person would go into shock."

A laugh burst from me, "I'm not what you call a 'normal person'." I clarified, throwing air quotes where they were needed, "That psychotic Alpha made sure of that when he chomped on my arm." I said with a twinge of sadness. That nut job was not-so-slowly taking everything away from me. My humanity, my sanity (at times), nearly got my dog, and he set fire to my _house_. _My house_.

Suddenly, Derek had wrapped an arm around me and tears slowly fell from my eyes. And, see, I'm not one of those pretty criers. When I cry everything goes to shit. My face kind of puckers in the middle like it's caving in on itself, my eyes could be mistaken for someone who just snorted a line of cocaine, my mouth turned into some crescent shaped hole, and snot fell freely from my nose. I was a mess. Not even a hot mess, just a flat out sniffling, sobbing, ovulating, _MESS_… I have no idea if I was ovulating or not.

Back to my freak out, one of many, I wrapped my arms around my knees and pulled them towards me. I buried my ugly sobbing face into the crease of my legs to hide my girly shame. I mean, it's not like my _dog_ died or anything. My house just went up in smoke… actually, I had no idea what the state of my house was. I turned to look at Derek.

"Was my house still standing when you got there?" I asked… though it probably sounded closer to, "Wa' ma 'ouse s-s-s-still s-standing 'hen you ga t-there?" Not particularly intelligent speech.

He nodded, "Yes."

I rubbed my nose with the back of my hand, "'ood." I managed to say.

After watching me hopelessly rub at the Niagara Falls of snot, Derek reached into his jeans pocket and pulled out a slightly charred handkerchief, "Here." He offered. Gingerly I took it, unsure of his intentions, and wiped my nose.

"Why're you being so nice?" I asked. My sentences were getting more and more coherent.

He arched an eyebrow at me, followed by silence.

"_Derek_. Tall dark and brooding extraordinaire!" I threw my hands up in the air in a slight exasperation. He removed his arm from my shoulder and started fiddling with spot in his shirt that had been burned. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to say something but wasn't sure if he should. It was half-a-minute before he spoke. And, lordie, I had no idea he was going to say what he had.

"Six years ago, werewolf hunters burned my house until… well… until it turned into this." He muttered, gesturing briefly to the space around us, "I wasn't in the fire but I can only imagine."

My jaw nearly unhinged itself. I thought Derek was being sketchy and really I was just being insensitive, "Wow, I'm sorry." I said as I ran my fingers over his upper arm with a feathers touch.

He shrugged.

"Dude! A bunch of shitheads turned your house into their own personal bonfire! That's nothing to shrug about!" I protested, turning my whole body to face him.

Again, he shrugged, "I really don't care that they set my house on fire… but…" He paused to pinch the bridge of his nose. I watched his chest rise and fall and his entire body shudder. His claws were starting to poke through their beds. I figured that whatever he was trying to say was going to make him cry… then I remembered this is Derek we're talking about. And Derek Hale didn't cry, he got punchy.

Another few breaths later and I lifted Derek's free arm to nuzzle into his side. So he knew that he wasn't utterly alone.

He looked down at me skeptically but eventually spoke, "They didn't just burn my house to cinders… they burned my family alive." He finally said, his pale green eyes flashing the fluorescent blue that usually signaled the arrival of his werewolf side.

I honestly didn't have words. What do you say to a guy after a confession like that? Just sputtering off the usual phrases, "Everything's going to be alright,", "they're in a better place,", "there's nothing you could have done", didn't seem appropriate. From what Derek told me, someone intentionally murdered his entire family. By trapping them all in a burning building, no less! So I simply laced my fingers with his and kissed the back of his hand. I didn't know what else to do.

We sat there without a single word to each other for quite some time. And there were so many things I wanted to ask. How did he know hunters did it? Did anyone survive? How was he dealing with losing his sister? Why did the hunters murder his family? Knowing Derek, he wouldn't answer those types of questions anyway. He was sure to keep a thick veil of mystery over his entire existence.

Then, finally, after what seemed like minutes, he spoke.

"It's in the past." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

I frowned, "It's okay to be upset." I tried to console. He didn't even look at me.

He fisted at his hair, "I just have this sinking feeling that the Alpha and what happened to my family are connected. I don't know why and I don't know how!" He muttered angrily to himself. That was the most I think I ever heard him say at once.

That forced me to think of all the dreams of fire I had had in the past few weeks. How the Alpha always seemed to be involved. And then he actually lit my house on fire. So, on a whim, I asked, "What did your house look like, before the fire?"

My question must have caught him off guard. He just stared at me for a second before pointing to a picture above the fireplace. Gingerly, I stood and grabbed the painting and carried it down to the ground. I reached for the hem of my shirt to wipe off the thousand layers of soot and dust when I remembered I wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Uh, mind if I borrow a rag?" I asked while using my long black hair to cover my blush.

He nodded and tugged off his shirt, eventually tossing it to me.

That guy really did not like clothes, or words. I ignored Derek's extremely fine body as I started to wipe away the grim that coated the painting. It just a few seconds but eventually I could see the house. It was grand and white and… just like the one in my dreams.

"I think you're right about your family and the Alpha being connected." I mumbled.

Derek came towards me, his silence demanding the information I had. He took the shirt from me and tugged it back over his head.

"I've been dreaming about this house ever since the Alpha bit me. Each time it catches on fire and when I wake up I usually end up running away from the lunatic." I informed him, keeping a careful eye for his reaction.

"And you didn't mention this… why?" He near well growled.

I shrugged, "I thought it was just some random Alpha induced nightmare. I just thought he wanted to freak me out. Which he succeeded in, by the way."

"Still." Derek said through clenched teeth, "You should've told me. You and Scott are both so set on dealing with this thing on your own that we're not only a step behind the Alpha, we're miles behind him. We don't even know what he wants!"

I glared at him, "Don't you lash out at me. I am not in the mood. I did not _choose_ to become a werewolf, I did not _ask_ for that fucker to bite me, and I did not want to be _chased_ to God knows where at all hours of the day by some monster with boundary issues! What is his deal anyway?! I don't see him hazing Scott like this!" I lashed out, suddenly and unexplainably angry.

In front of me, Derek suddenly leveled out, "Brooke, you need to calm down."

"Calm down? How dare _you_ tell _me_ to calm down! Mr. All I Feel Is Anger and Hate!" I yelled as I stood and started to pace.

Derek got up and placed his hands on my shoulders, "Brooke, breathe." He commanded.

"No!" I countered while trying to wiggle out of Derek's grasp.

He shook me slightly, "Brooke! Think about it! You started to get angry only when I did! You're just mirroring my emotions so just calm down!" He said rather harshly. He didn't yell, he didn't scream, he just spoke at a decibel that was able to penetrate my freaked out brain.

At first, I was going to slap him. But I realized that his words held some truth. I inhaled and exhaled a few times to find that my anger was dissipating rather rapidly.

Okay, what the fuck was wrong with me now?!

I looked up at him with a skeptical expression, "What just happened?" I asked with hands on my hips.

"Well… let's just say you're very attuned to others emotions and sometimes they can affect you. Like, when you're in a vulnerable state." He said cryptically, his hands falling from my shoulders.

I glared at him a bit, "Any other surprises I should be aware of?"

He shook his head.

"Good." I huffed, throwing myself onto the couch. That's when I remembered something I brought up earlier in my rant, "Hey… you have any idea why he's hunting me _specifically_?" I asked.

Him scratching the back of his head, something I have since learned to be caused by nerves, suggested that he did.

"You know something. Spill." I ordered, crossing my arms over my chest.

He let out a sigh, "I have a theory. And you're not going to like it."

I glared at him some more, "I don't care."

Another sigh, but he looked complacent, "Fine. He wants to mate with you." He rushed out.

"Um… what does that mean, exactly?" I asked. I mean, I was pretty sure I knew what "mating" meant but we were dealing with Supernatural mating. Just wanted to get all of my pups in a row. Get it? I said pups instead of ducks.

Derek gave me an incredulous look, "Do I _really_ have to explain-"

"I mean, what does "mating" mean outside of the obvious "sticking his dick between my legs"." I said rather crudely.

"Well… first off, true mates are rare. Their bond is sealed under a full moon while the two are in their werewolf form, and they're for life." He explained, plopping down next to me. A dust cloud puffed up and tried to strangle me. Derek needed to clean-house like, real bad.

I coughed a bit, "Life, as in, until death do us part? Some sort of werewolf marriage?" He nodded, "Fan-freaking-tastic! My 'mate' is going to shove his enormous wolf penis in my normal sized vagina! MY. LIFE. SUCKS!" I yelled, throwing my hands to my hair and resisting ripping it out in chunks.

"Well, is he?" Derek asked after he was sure I wasn't going to scalp myself.

I growled a bit, "Is he what?" I returned vehemently.

He rolled his eyes, "Your mate?"

I rolled my eyes back, "Well, apparently!"

"That's not how it works."

My blue eyes narrowed at him, "Feel free to elaborate, wolf boy."

He chuckled, only slightly, "If he was your mate, you'd know."

"Elaboration, dumbing something down enough for _me_ to understand!" I snarled.

Another chuckle, "What does he smell like to you?"

"What does that have to do with anything?!"

"You'd be surprised."

"You're irritating."

"Just answer the question."

I groaned, "Ugh. FINE. He smells like a week's worth of menstrual cycle that was left out in the sun for weeks and then set on fire."

Derek almost laughed, almost, "He's not your mate."

"You can tell that just from his scent?" I asked, my words soaked like a sponge with skepticism.

He nodded, "It's what he smells like to you. If his scent is repulsive then there's no way he's your mate."

"What's he smell like to you?" I asked, feeling a bit better about the whole 'mate' ordeal.

He looked like he contemplated it then shivered, "Hot tar and roadkill."

I gagged. That is raunchy, "Ew. Someone really should tell him to shower."

Derek shrugged, "It wouldn't matter. That's his scent when he's in his werewolf form."

"We have two scents?" I continued to ask. I really knew nothing about this crap.

He nodded, "Usually it's only small differences. But, in his circumstance, with his transformation being so different, he could possibly smell like roses."

I scoffed, "I doubt that. He probably smells like children's tears." I joked. Even Derek chuckled a little. Guess I could make the statue smile, "So, back on the whole 'mate' topic. What _does_ ones mate smell like?"

"Depends on the wolf. It's whatever appeals you the most."

I 'hmmmed', "So why's he convinced that I'm his?"

"Your scent is probably extremely close to his mates." He explained.

"So…" I said, "He's just horny?"

He shook his head, "Well, maybe. I'm assuming it's because when an Alpha mates it increases his power exponentially. It doesn't even matter if he mates with his destined mate or not."

I let that sink in for a moment, "… … THE FUCK?!" I shouted, "HE CAN JUST RAPE ME AND TURN INTO THE FREAKING HULK? HOW EXACTLY IS THAT FAIR FOR MY LADY PARTS?!"

"Well…"

My jaw dropped, "OH GREAT. THERE'S MORE."

"After you mate… you become completely loyal to them. Your first instincts will be to please, love, and protect him." He admitted.

I couldn't believe what I was hearing, "So, he'll rape me and I'll fall deeply in love with him." He half-shrugged and half-nodded, "Being a werewolf sucks. I have yet to find a single bright side to this whole ordeal."

He shrugged.

"I guess the strength is O.K."

Another shrug.

"I still don't speak shrug!" I yelled. Shrug. "Well, MR. SHRUG, do _you_ have a mate?" I swore to God if he shrugged I was going to gut him.

And, of course, he shrugged. But then said, "Maybe."

I let out an angry sigh, "What's she smell like?" Glare. "Oh, come on, you were on a sharing roll! Don't stop now for my sake!" I laughed.

He sighed, "Blueberries, honey, warm tea, amber, apple pie, autumn leaves, and imminent rain." He rushed out.

"Honey, I think your mate is November." I joked.

Surprisingly, he let out a snort.

"Wow. That was about 60% laughter right there." I said sarcastically with a wicked smile spread wide across my face.

"Don't get used to it." He threatened.

With a flirtatious wink, I said, "Don't worry, I won't."

* * *

**Author's Note: FILLER. LOTS OF DIALOGUE. Wow, Derek speaks. Sorry if that seems out of character but that's just what Brooke does to him. Hope you guys like the chapter and my reason for why Peter keeps making her life _hell_. I wonder who Derek's mate is? ;D xoxo, Momma Love**


	14. Chapter 13: Spilled Milk

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Thirteen: Spilled Milk**

* * *

Now, here's where my story gets really interesting. Well… not here, exactly. And it's not as if the story so far hasn't been enthralling. This next part is borderline boring. But it leads up to the 'turning point'. Or whatever you wanted to call it. Shit hitting the fan, the game changer, going downhill; each described that night to a T. And who was stuck in the middle of it all? A bunch of teenagers and myself. We weren't exactly the A-Team but we managed.

It was a couple of days after my house burned down and I was sifting through selves at the grocery store with Scott. Wondering why I was with my fellow werewolf? No, I wasn't "robbing the cradle". I called in one of the many favours Melissa owed me and she was more than happy to take my homeless butt in.

Speaking of that night, I had returned Stiles' call and he told me that my roof caved in. Making my house inhabitable… just my luck. I didn't have homeowners insurance. James didn't think it was necessary and I never really expected a freaking werewolf to burn down my house. SILLY ME FOR NOT THINKING AHEAD.

So, I was Melissa McCall's temporary daughter. Which meant tagging along with Scott to get groceries. I was more than happy to accompany the kid. He was a total goofball, made me laugh, all that jazz. Besides that, I think it's because I felt safer with him; I felt stronger. And I was pretty sure that it had something to do with the fact that we were bitten by the same prick. But what did I know? I was new to the whole thing.

As we grabbed mayonnaise, pickles, toilet paper, and what have you off of the shelves, we talked over some things about being werewolves.

"You have amazing reflexes,"

"Eyes of an eagle, the ears of a bat, and the nose of a basset hound,"

"Some weird empath ability,"

"Don't I know it."

"And then there's the strength,"

"The speed,"

"And this weird surge of confidence!"

We looked at each other and laughed, "We're talking about this like it's the pros and cons of college. Not lycanthropy." I continued to chuckle as I found the last item on our list and motioned for us to go towards the front.

"Yeah, it's so weird. Last year I was some geeky kid with asthma that didn't even have a chance at first line." He admitted, placing all of our items on the conveyor belt.

I snorted, "You say it like not much has changed, ya geek."

Scott gave me a playful shove, "You're a jerk!"

I shrugged with a smile, "I have my moments."

We paid for our groceries and went out to the parking garage, still joking around like brother and sister. I brought the keys above my head to enhance the signal as I tried to locate the McCall family car. No beeps.

"Scott, why did you lie to me as to where I parked the car?" I accused.

His jaw grew slack, "Excuse me? You're the one who said it was on the second floor!"

I rolled my eyes, "Then you should've corrected me."

"I had no idea!" He proclaimed as we retreated back towards the stairwell.

I gave him a shove, "And there's the problem! You're supposed to know these things, Scotty boy!" I continued to laugh.

That's when my phone rang.

I tried to reach into my back pocket to pull out my still damaged phone but the bags in my hands made that impossible, "Take 'em, take 'em, take 'em, take 'em!" I repeated over and over again while hopping up and down. Scott outstretched his arms and I hung the bags on his wrists.

With my arms and hands free, I successfully retrieved my phone.

"Hello?" I asked into the receiver.

The voice on the other hand exhaled, "Oh thank God. Brooke, are you alright?"

Shit. It was my father, "Rich, I'm fine. Why're you calling?"

"Pamela called. She said that your house burned down and she hadn't seen high or nigh of you since!" He rushed out.

In front of me, Scott turned and looked over his shoulder mouthing, 'Who is it?'

'Father.' I mouthed back, "Like I said, I'm fine. Nothing drastic or terrible happened."

"Were you in the house when the fire broke out?" He persisted.

I groaned. God, leave me alone! "No, I was at my friend Derek's." There was a moment of silence. He was smirking. I could hear it, "Stop smiling you old fart. He's just a friend."

He snickered, "He not attractive?"

I rolled my eyes, "No… I mean, he _is_, but that doesn't mean that I'm jumping his bones!"

"And why aren't you?"

I had to suppress a gag, "Dad! You're not supposed to ask me those sorts of questions! That's what Pam's for. And, trust me, she's doing plenty without you helping." I paused briefly, "We done?"

"Yes," He sighed, "I guess we're done. In the future, don't be afraid to call. Just because your sisters are a bit… nuts… doesn't mean that we don't love you."

I sighed, "I know, dad."

I could hear him smiling again, "I love you, 'Rooke."

"That nickname's stupid… but I'm glad you're still thinking of them." I smiled.

He chuckled, "I still like Monkey."

"Yeah yeah yeah. Bye, Dad." I finished, ending the call and tucking my phone back in my pocket.

I looked up to see Scott's skeptical, yet cute, face looking at me, "Issues with the fam?" He asked, motioning for me to take the bags I had saddled him with. I ignored the motion and tried the clicker to find the car again. No luck.

"Always." I conferred, heading up the next flight of stairs with Scott not far behind, "But I like Rich best."

"I'm confused…" He admitted, "You said the guy on the other end was your father?"

I looked back at him, "He is. I just call him Rich."

He gave me this odd look, "You call your dad by his first name?"

I returned his odd look, "No? His name's Anthony." I said upon reaching the fourth floor of the parking garage. I clicked the clicker and, sure enough, the car beeped… above us, "What the freak." I mumbled, "Scott, why the hell would you let me park on the _fifth floor_ of a parking thinger? You know I hate the whole ascending thing."

"Why do you blame all this stuff on me? At least I don't call my dad 'Rich' when his name's Anthony!" He grumbled, "Now, will you grab one of these?"

I turned back around to Scott shoving his bag filled hands at me, "Nah, they make you look sexy." I protested, backing away from the offending bags. Still, he persisted. He took steps towards me.

"Come on! They're heavy!" He whined.

"Oh WAH. What happened to all that werewolf strength?" I asked rhetorically/sarcastically.

Scott groaned, "I'm serious, Brooke. I can't hold these much longer!" He barely managed to get out before dropping one of the bags and spilling the contents everywhere. Bottles rolled and eggs broke.

"Good going!" I yelled as Scott dropped everything and chased after a stray bottle. I gathered up what I could into a small pile and waited for him.

Half a minute later, he was running back towards me shouting, "Run!"

Me, being a dumbass, I just stood there with a confused look on my face. Scott ran past me and something out of my peripherals caught my eye. Something running on all fours. It wasn't a second later and I was following Scott's example of running like hell.

I caught up to Scott as he passed the concrete support beam with a '3' painted on it, signaling that we had returned to the third level, "This prick really needs a new hobby!" I whispered loudly to the kid. Kid… shit! Scott was just a kid! We needed a plan, and fast. I wasn't going to let that fucker touch a hair on his adorable little head! I could handle the Alpha's abuse and Scott could skip this loony situation altogether!

But first we needed to reconvene. As we approached the end of a row of cars, I tugged him down behind one. We both took a second to catch our breath while I thought of a plan. I looked to the cars then looked back to Scott. Using my hands, I told him to jump on the cars. He didn't look like he understood. I emphasized the jumping motion with my fingers and pointed to the cars. He nodded.

'What about you?' He mouthed.

I pointed to myself and made a running motion with my arms. Scott shook his head. Damn brat. I punched him in the arm, he punched back. I punched again, a lot harder than the first, and he looked as if he was going to comply.

With my fingers, I started a countdown.

'One,' I mouthed, 'two, now!'

We scurried to our feet and Scott jumped onto the first car, triggering the alarm, as I jogged along them. I kept a watchful eye on him while I trained my ears for any sign of the Alpha. As Scott finished off his car hopping, he ran with me down to the second level. We came to the last row of cars on the upper half of the level and I pushed him down.

'Stay here!' I mouthed and kept running. I was half way down when I heard the Alpha cut the corner. Scott was safe. I picked up my pace and tried to formulate another plan. Let me just say, that plan did not include Scott's cell phone going off. I raked a hand down my sweaty face and prayed to whoever would listen.

"Please don't turn around, please don't turn around!" I muttered.

But, sure enough, he turned around. I swore and pivoted, propelling myself back in Scott's direction. I was able to get a glimpse of the Alpha. I have to admit, the thing in front of me had a fine ass.

Then I heard something come in contact with a car and someone said, "You're dead."

I saw him pinning Scott to the hood of a car so I pounced, tackling him to the ground. As we rolled, he threw me. My side connected with an SVU and I landed on my knees. I immediately looked up, my fangs bared, ready to duke it out with the overlord of douchbaggery. Turns out, that was completely unnecessary. In front of me wasn't a hulking, savage, beast.

It was Derek.

Nursing my wounded side and telling it to heal, I marched over to the jackass. I ripped him off of Scott and gave him a mighty shove, "You fucker!"

Scott crawled off of the Taurus and we both watched as Derek started to walk away. We exchanged an exasperated look but ran to catch up with him.

"W-what the hell was that?!" Scott yelled.

Derek looked as if he couldn't be bothered, "I said I was going to teach you I didn't say when.

"And, as per usual, I got thrown into the mix!" I commented whilst imagining every method of torture I could. I'd need them for later as I brutally _maimed_ the arrogant bastard in front of me.

"You scared the crap out of me! Out of us!" Scott corrected.

Derek gave Scott a once over, "Not yet."

It wasn't enough that Derek had tormented us, he didn't even look conflicted about it! '_That's it_.' I thought, bending over and taking off one of my high tops. I held onto the laces and threw the shoe at his back. He glared at me over his shoulder but otherwise paid me no heed.

"O-okay but I was fast, right?" Scott asked, trying to find a bright side to our shit-tastic experience.

But, of course, being Mr. Cheerful, Derek couldn't have that, "Not fast enough."

I rolled my eyes, "Cut him some slack! Not all of us can be experts in all things lupine!" Derek glared at me again, "Hate on me all you want, sugar. Doesn't change the fact that you're an _ass_!"

Quickly, he turned on his heel and grabbed a fistful of my shirt, "I've been nice to you, _Brooke Summers_, don't abuse it." He snarled, giving me a forceful push and returning to his brooding strut.

Scott glanced at me, "He's nice to you?" He whispered.

"Depends on how you define 'nice'." I lamented with a quirked eyebrow.

The kid returned his attention to his 'mentor' of sorts, "But the car alarm thing, that was smart, right?" He asked in a voice that practically demanded approval.

"Until your phone rang." Was Derek's lame ass reply. Give the kid some credit!

"Yeah, but that was… I mean…" He tried to reason. Scott's face flashed between confusion, anger, guilt, and a medley of only God knew, forcing him to stop in his tracks. I stayed back with him, a comforting hand on his shoulder. Okay, it's one thing to be an ass, but no one rags on Scott except for me… well, Stiles too.

"Will you just stop?!" I yelled at Derek's retreating form, "He's just a kid, for God's sake!"

Derek halted and turned back towards us. He didn't look sympathetic in the least. I didn't care; I continued to yell at him.

"Imagine living your entire life not knowing about all this crap. You were born into this, Derek, we weren't. You can't expect us to automatically know every trick in the book! A little while ago to most stressful thing he probably had to do was get a date to the Winter Formal! Now he's got an Alpha, hunters, and a freaking full moon to worry about! Two thirds of those things try to kill us on a regular basis!

"I under_stand_ that we need to learn how to defend ourselves and whatever else before too long, but this is _not_ the way to do it. Forcing it on us is only going to get one of us hurt. What are you going to do next? Sick some hunters on us and _hope_ that they don't pump us full of those special bullets that nearly killed you? Maybe put us in a cage with a wild bear? Or maybe with the Alpha himself." I glared at him, "Does that sound about right?"

Despite my rant, Derek's expression remained the same. Stoic and uncaring. I wanted to punch him, "How do you expect to handle any of this if you can't handle a simple mountain lion?" He asked, arms crossed. Next to me, Scott started to shake.

"What happened the other night? With Stiles' dad getting hurt?" He asked, "That was _my fault_! I should've been there to do something! I _need _you to teach me how to control this!"

Derek's nostrils flared, "Look. As Brooke said, I am what I am because of birth. You were bitten. Teaching someone who was bitten takes time." He paused, his chest rose and fell with labored breath, "I don't even know if I can teach you."

I held onto Scott's arm as he started to freak out, "What do I have to do?!" He asked.

"You have to get rid of distractions." Was his simple response.

I gave Derek a sarcastic look, "Care to elaborate?" I mumbled as Derek took Scott's phone.

"You see this?" He asked, presenting the missed call to Scott. Allison had called, "This is why I caught you. You want me to teach you get rid of her."

Scott was looking at him as if he had just told him something completely and utterly stupid, "What, just because of her family?" He sassed… I don't think he liked that response. Derek brought his arm back, despite Scott's protests, and chucked Scott's phone at the wall. Successfully shattering it.

My jaw dropped, "The fuck, dude?!"

Derek didn't bother to acknowledge my question, "You getting angry?" He asked the completely bewildered Scott, "That's your first lesson. You want to learn how to control this? How to shift? You do it through _anger_. By tapping into a primal, animal, rage. And you can't _do_ that with her around!"

"I can get angry." Scott said quietly. I could fully agree to that statement. His anger was radiating of his skin in waves. Bright red waves.

Still, Derek wasn't happy, "Not angry enough!" He yelled, "This is the only way I can teach you. Now, can you stay away from her? At _least_ until after the full moon?" He asked in a slightly more reasonable tone.

Scott sighed angrily, "If that's what it takes-"

"Do you want to live?" Derek asked, cutting Scott's statement short, "Do you want to protect your friends, yes or no?"

I decided it was time to pitch in, "Of course he does. We both do."

Scott looked at me and nodded, "If you can teach me, I can stay away from her."

"Good." Was the last thing Derek said before jumping over the ledge of the parking garage and disappearing from sight.

I sighed in relief. Thank God that was over. I patted Scott on the back, "Come on, let's get the bags and hurry home before Derek plans any other shenanigans." I explain as I started the trek back to the fifth level.

"Er…" Scott grumbled, "Mind dropping me off somewhere first?"

I turned, "Sure, where?" He looked away, guilt evident on his face. That little shit. "You have _got_ to be kidding me."

* * *

**Author's Note: _Filler, filler, filler, filler, filler! _Yeah. Sorry about all of the filler. I just wanted Brooke and Scott to have some screen time. Thank you for the reviews and letting me know that Brooke is not Sue-ish. I have a real hatred for Sue's. As most of us do! Hope you enjoy this new chapter, it should get real exciting either in Chapter 14 or Chapter 15. If you would like to see what I imagine Brooke to look like, I have links on my profile. Just, be careful if you look up the model I've used as her FC. She's... well... let's just say she's nude in 60% of her pictures. There's also James and Conner. Conner will come into play soon. Don't you worry ;). Read and Review, my lovelies! Ta~! xoxo, Momma Love**


	15. Chapter 14: Hello Mother, Hello Father

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Fourteen: Hello Mother, Hello Father**

* * *

"Can't believe I'm actually putting up with this crap…" I mumbled to myself, sitting in the McCall car, playing Angry Birds while I waited for Scott to finish his romantic rendezvous with Miss Baby Werewolf Hunter. He was fooling around with her ten minutes after he promised Derek that he'd stay away from her. And I was enabling him. What did that say about me? And, yet, I didn't make any effort to cease the activities.

So, there I sat, waiting alone in a car with the engine turned off and the music from my phone blaring. Talk about excruciating. The most exciting thing would have to be Angry Birds, though; Scott being a fool caught my attention. Every minute or so, their shadows would dance along their curtains and I'd get some insight as to how long they were going to take. When they got to the stripping part I stopped watching. Intently staring at them while clothes were being removed was a level of creepy I wasn't comfortable with reaching. I already felt like I was intruding in some way from my spot across the street. I leaned my head against the cold window and turned up my music. Hurts. Not a real upbeat bunch but I needed a 'Silver Lining' and a 'Wonderful Life'.

I snickered at my inner play on words. I'm such a riot.

My great sense of humour wasn't helping me much. Sure, it kept me entertained, but I was slowly turning into an icicle. I remained frozen in my spot for about ten more minutes until the sudden thud of Scott hitting the ground gave me a heart attack. He waved at me as he crossed the Argent's massive lawn. And when I say massive I mean Russia massive… well… maybe not. I digress. I stuck the keys into the ignition and started the car.

Upon looking back at Scott he seemed to be distracted by something in the foliage. If he was going to mark his territory I was getting the hell out of dodge. I had to resist the urge to roll down the window and yell at him. But that might've ended with a bullet or two in his leg. Not advised. So, I waited less than patiently from him. Even when it looked like he was talking to himself. What a loon. But, in his defense, he didn't actually seem like he was having a nice little chat with the inner Scott McCall. It was as if there was a mystical pedophile gnome whispering to him from the shrubbery, _"Come here, Scottie, I have magical werewolf biscuits. Be a good boy and I'll let you lick my cone."_

I shivered just thinking about creepy talking garden ornaments. I was so caught up in my own head that I didn't even notice Scott barreling at the car. Well that escalated quickly. And who was hot on his tail? The Alpha, of course. Our new best friend.

"Shit!" I barked, watching Scott slide across the hood and over towards the passenger door. I hit the unlock button when he went for the handle but couldn't get in.

He kept tugging at it, "Unlock the door!" He shouted.

"I already did that! Pull harder!" I countered. For good measure, I punched the button a few dozen more times.

Eventually I gave up and physically kicked his door open. Scott slid in, slamming the door behind him, and we both ducked down. I don't know why. The Alpha clearly saw him slink into the car. I guess I sort of knew why we unconsciously tried to stay out of view. It's like when you hear something go bump in the night you hide under your covers. The temporary relief is a safety blanket, of sorts.

I quickly shushed my thoughts when a shadow kept hovering over us. He was circling. Like a freaking buzzard. Add "part vulture" to his ever extensive resume. As the Alpha circled the vehicle, we could catch glimpses of him in the rear view mirrors. Talk about a potential horror flick. Finally, he came to a stop outside my door. I backed away, prepping my legs in the likely chance that he'd rip the door off and I'd have to plant my shoe right in his kisser. But, the door remained intact. I swear I could hear his heavy breath through the metal and glass.

We watched on bated breath as his hand came into contact with the window. Not really thinking I grabbed Scott's hand. I have no clue as to why I did that. I guess I needed an anchor. Then, using only one of his claws, he, the Alpha, started to trace a spiral in the condensation. Round and round he went until his work was finished. I had no idea what it meant; I just knew I couldn't mean anything good. That wasn't in the guy's repertoire.

Then, suddenly, he was gone. I looked back at Scott. He was freaking out as much as I was. And even though we were both positive that he had left the premise, we didn't dare say a thing in the off chance he was still in earshot. And with that bionic werewolf hearing, it was quite possible.

After a full minute of absolutely nothing but panicked breathing, I let out a huge sigh of relief, "Thank God. I don't know how well I would've handled yet _another _chase. My body still hurts from the parking garage incident." I grumbled. Then I looked up at the spiral, "Do you have any idea what that means? Our friendly neighborhood murderer doesn't seem like the Picasso type to me." I stated, jamming my thumb towards my window.

Scott shook his head adamantly. Then he squinted his eyes as if he wasn't sure, "Well… I have a clue… Derek's sister was buried under a spiral like that." He admitted, still overly alert. As we all were after a visit from the Alpha.

I nodded. That's when I remembered Derek's tattoo. I snapped my fingers, "Derek has that weird trifecta of spirals on his back. Maybe we should ask him." I suggested, giving our surroundings one last glance and a whiff of the ol' wolf nose. No obvious sign of the douchebag so I put the car in gear and sped off down the road towards the McCall residence.

We didn't talk much on the way back. We were both too busy looking in the rearview mirrors for any sign of Monsieur Loup-Garou. But we made sure to stop at the gas station, not the one I worked at, I wouldn't be caught dead there, to grab the essential items from the list Melissa gave us. Couldn't exactly return home without any groceries after she gave us fifty bucks. Scott and I had thirty bucks between us so we were able to get most everything.

When we got to his house, we snuck in and carefully placed the bags onto the kitchen table. Didn't want to wake up mama bear. We both knew how she got when her slumber was interrupted. We then tiptoed up to his room so we could talk some more about spirals and werewolves. Scott immediately shut and locked the door after we passed the threshold while I ran to close the window and blinds. I don't know why. The Alpha could easily break through both.

After windows and door were secured, Scott sighed, "This happen to you often?" He asked me from his spot near the door. I could barely make him out in the darkness.

"Too often." I groaned, inhaling and exhaling all of my nerves… on the inhale I caught something amiss in the medley of Scottly scents in the room. As he crossed in front of me to get the light, I stopped him, "Wait. Something's not right."

His quizzical brown eyes caught the light of the nearly full moon. He stopped moving but he was waiting for me to explain.

With my nose lifted in the air, I sniffed. I knew it. Mister Cinnamon Man, "Aha!" I exclaimed, pointing to the corner of his room, "Nice try, sweet cheeks! You'll have to do better than that!"

Still thoroughly confused, Scott flipped on the light and, sure enough, Derek was sitting comfortably in the kid's chair. Even though I gave him full warning, Scott practically jumped out of his skin. Not that I blamed him, I knew the feeling all too well.

"You _seriously_ need to stop doing that." Scott said.

Next to him, I nodded, "I second that notion."

Derek didn't look like he cared what we thought/wanted. Nothing new, "So what happened?" He asked, "Did he talk to you?" Of course he knew we had a run in with him. He was probably watching us the entire time.

"Yeah, we had a nice conversation about the weather." Scott huffed and puffed, "No! He didn't talk! He's never said _anything_ to me!"

I laughed dryly, "He loves talking to moi. He's a real chatter box, even." They both arched brows at me, like what I said was so impossible, "What? Whenever he's around there's this sort of demonic voice in the back of my head. I've been assuming it's him. But I could be wrong."

"What does he say?" Derek asked, sounding genuinely intrigued for once in his life.

I thought back to all the times I heard the voice, "Well… usually he's just threatening me. The last time I heard him he was growling about feeling his pain, or something like that." I shrugged.

He narrowed his eyes at me, "What about last night? Did you get anything off of him? An impression?" He asked.

"Besides the intense need for oral care I didn't notice much." I shrugged.

Derek rolled his eyes, "You, Scott?"

"What do you mean?" He asked.

"Remember your other senses are heightened." Derek replied with restrained anger, pushing himself out of the chair and moving until he was directly in front of us, "Communication doesn't have to be spoken. What kind of feeling did you get from him?"

Scott took a brief moment to think. Honestly, I hadn't noticed anything to date due to the fact that I was usually running for my life whenever he was near. I don't think I ever had enough time to care about what he was feeling, "Anger." He said hesitantly.

"Focused on you?" Derek returned, his tone lacking the typical bite.

Another second of deliberation, "Nah, no, not me." He paused, "But it was definitely anger, I could feel it… especially when he drew the spiral." Scott finished, almost mumbling to himself by the end.

That seemed to catch Derek's attention, "Wait, the what? What'd you just say?"

"He drew a spiral." I clarified.

Scott nodded, "On the window of my car, in the condensation, y'know?"

Derek suddenly looked… uncharacteristically surprised, "What? What is it?" I asked.

Next to me, Scott looked up, "Derek? You have this look like you know what it means." He proclaimed.

"It's nothing." Derek practically stuttered as he shoved past Scott and me, clearly making his way to leave.

Faster than I could blink, I ran to the door, blocking his way, "Wait. No. This is not how we're operating. You know what the spiral means and keeping us out of the loop is like keeping your soldiers divided, stretching their power to a point where they're hopelessly crippled." I chastised, jabbing Derek in the chest with my pointer and middle fingers.

"Brooke's right." Scott said, grabbing hold of Derek's arm, "You can't do that. You can't ask us to trust you a-and then just keep things to yourself." And Scott was right. 100%.

"It doesn't mean anything." The jackass insisted in an almost kind tone.

As he gently moved me out of the way and unlocked the door, Scott tried again, "… you buried your sister under a spiral… what does it mean." He asked.

"Honestly, it can't be worse than the pyrotechnics and magic bullets." I mumbled.

The look on Derek's face was that of reluctance. It was like he wanted to tell us, but thought that our ignorance would keep us safe. He huffed and opened the door. Half in, half out of the room, he looked directly at Scott, "You don't want to know…" He then looked me straight in the eye and muttered, "It's much worse."

And, with that, Derek left the building. We stared at the door, not really knowing what to say. So we said nothing. I waved goodnight, bowed out of Scott's room, and tiptoed down to mine. As I slowly opened the door I half expected Kipper to tackle me. But he was nowhere to be found. He was probably in with Melissa. I smiled sadly to myself. At least he was being loved. Quickly I stripped of my jeans and sweater and jumped into bed. I placed my phone on the nightstand and selected Joe Hisaishi to lull me to sleep.

The next morning I was aroused by an incessant knocking at my door. I lifted my head from my pillow and squinted in the direction of the offending sound. I checked my phone with tired eyes. 6:44 AM. Too early. Way too early. I picked up my shoe and chucked it in the direction of the door. The sudden thud of converse coming into contact with wood probably stunned my assailant briefly. I strongly emphasize the word 'briefly'. They resumed their knocking a second or two later.

"Away…" I grumbled into my pillow.

"Come on, Brooke. You're coming with me today."

I groaned, "Rapist…"

Whoever they were, they guffawed, "Brooke! Get up!"

I pulled my head away from my fluffy headrest, "Raaaaaape…" I whined before throwing my head back down. While lethargic and groggy I tend to accuse the people around me of committing heinous crimes… that is a complete lie. I just didn't want to get out of bed.

My door was suddenly kicked open. I still refused to get up. I nudged my head underneath my pillow and held it down over my ears. Someone grabbed hold of my ankles, "Brooke, for the love of God!" They called, tugging at my appendages.

"No." I responded, feeling a bit more awake as I held onto the bed frame.

After a few more tugs, they gave up, "MOM." They shouted.

Seconds later someone else joined the party, "What?" They asked in a sassy tone.

"Brooke won't get up. What's that thing you used to do to get me out of bed?"

The second person chortled a bit, "Oh, _that_."

I listened carefully as they both left the room. There was some running water, some idle chit-chat, and some what-have-you. They returned a minute or so later and I was assaulted by something cold coming into contact with my ear. I sat up with enough force to snap my spine, clutching at my ear, "The hell was that?!" I shouted.

In front of me stood Melissa McCall, rolling a cotton swab between her fingers, "Just a little water." She said with a wink.

Beside her, Scott was laughing like a hyena. Clearly amused by his mother's stunt to get me out of bed. I scowled fiercely at both of them, "Why are you getting me up at…" I glanced at my phone, "… at ten to seven?!" I shouted.

"Didn't I tell you?" Scott asked, still shaking a bit from laughter.

I glared at him, "Didn't you tell me what, exactly?"

He flashed me a goofy grin, "You're coming to school with me today!" He exclaimed like he was going to freaking Disney World.

"I see my work here is done." Melissa said in an overly chipper tone and left Scott and I to our devices. I continued to glare at the brat.

"Want to run that by me again?" I asked vehemently.

No matter how much I glared or how nasty my tone got, his grin didn't waver. He seemed to be genuinely please to drag me to school with him, "You're my official visitor for the day." He added, "You'll be stuck to me like glue."

"Eeeexcuse me? Why the hell would I opt to do that?" I asked in disbelief.

"Do I really need to explain myself?" He asked, I nodded, "Well, let's see… the Alpha burned down your house and Derek is popping out of nowhere at all hours of the day. The last thing we need is either one of them catching us alone." Scott finished with so much sass he nearly sassed my pants off. He's got more than just his mom's looks, that's for sure.

I laughed, "The Alpha just _looooves_ to jump me when I least expect it." I said, shaking my head, "Did you know that that thing wants me to be his eternal fuck buddy?" I asked.

Scott's eyes grew wide, "What?"

I nodded, "That's Derek's theory. He said having a mate increases an Alpha's power. So Norman Bates picked my flat ass to grant him that magnificent power. I have no idea why. There are so many girls that have more brains, power, and beauty. You'd think he'd pick one of them to cater to his every whim. Still, he chose me… but it's just a theory." I tacked on at the end. Derek and I weren't sure of much with the Alpha, that much we were sure of… see what I did there? I did that whole… nevermind.

"That's… awful. I'm sorry." Scott admitted with a genuine look of sincerity on his face.

I shrugged, "What can you do, besides run like hell, that is." I teased in some hopes to lighten the mood, "And… if I'm going to accompany you today, you're going to have to leave at some point so I can get changed."

Scott nodded, "Understood. I'll be downstairs." He said before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

With the hormonally driven adolescent out of my room I began to pilfer through the clothes Derek and I managed to salvage from the wreckage that I once called home. Maybe it was time I got a new place. Somewhere without all the memories of James and the life that would never be. Even as I thought about that I shook the thoughts from my head. That mess of burnt cinders was still my house. I wouldn't let the Alpha force me to move just because he's a little over the top with the pyrotechnics.

From my duffel bag on the floor I retrieved a grey generic graphic tee with some sort of grungy cityscape and a generic quote about forever or love or… whatever. It's something you can find at any Kohl's store across the country. So I pulled off the ratty tank top I was wearing and replaced it with the slightly less ratty t-shirt. Once on, I stuck my finger through a small hole near the hemline caused by some asswipe's cigarette ashes. He got too close to me and the ashes dropped right onto my stomach. It left a small burn but it healed fast enough so the only time I thought of him was when I wore the shirt.

I sighed and found a pair of distressed teal skinny jeans. The only coloured jeans I owned. I tugged them on. A tighter fit than I remembered. I shoved my hands into my pockets and found something. A crumpled up five dollar bill that had clearly been through the wash. That was a nice bonus considering I hadn't been to work in the past few days… speaking of which… perhaps I should've called Pam. I really hadn't talked to her since before the fire. She was probably hysterical. I mean, I'm the closest thing to a daughter she's ever known. She had a handful of rowdy boys. James' half-brothers. None of which she was the mother too... long story. I'll explain it later.

'_Stop thinking about James, you twit!_' I yelled at myself internally. I was finally getting to a point where I found other men attractive and didn't feel utterly guilty about it.

Another sigh and I dug around for a pair of socks and deodorant. I pulled on the socks, applied the pit freshener, and left the room to use the facilities. Once relieved I gaged my appearance in the mirror. I seemed prettier than I remembered. My white-as-snow skin had a little colour to it so I looked less albino and more Twilight. I shivered. Ugh. Twilight. I actually read that series during all of my newly acquired free time and was thoroughly appalled by the amount of soft-core Mormon smut. If it was regular old smut than maybe it would've been tolerable. Still... Twilight. Geez… gag me with a porcupine.

Forcibly shoving Twilight from my brain, something I was all too happy to do, I brushed my teeth and tied back my hair. Oh! Something I didn't mention before. During the whole burning of my house, my hair caught fire. It burned off just this one spot at the back of my neck. Looked like a little sibling cut it off in my sleep. So, I cut the rest of my hair to that length and now my waist length mane was now a shoulder length bob. Still, I plated it to the best of my ability and pinned back the fly-aways. With one last look and a splash of water to my face, I was ready.

Ready to go back to freaking High School. I repeat my earlier testament: _gag me with a porcupine_. As if that dreaded place wasn't hard enough the first time around.

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**Author's Note: I lied, Chapter Sixteen is when it all goes down. Hope you guys like more Scott and Brooke because there will be nothing but those two in the next chapter as well. With Stiles and everyone I'm just saying no drama and no Derek. Though you do meet another member of James' family! Read and Review, hope you guys are digging Brooke being more sassy than goody goody. This is how she was before James died. TA~ xoxo, Momma Love**


	16. Chapter 15: Your Yoda, I Will Be

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Fifteen: "Your Yoda, I Will Be"**

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God I hated High School. Dear God I hated High School. I hated it so hard it should be a sport. No, that's too mild of a statement. That's candy sweet when I needed cayenne spicy. I hated High School on an Olympic level. On an Olympian level, even! I was the mighty Zeus when it came to hating High School... God I hated it. And that just may have had something to do with me graduating early. That and the fact that James had already graduated and the majority of my sisters were complete and utter lunatics. Could've been either of those reasons. Or the constant stank of bathrooms and locker rooms left uncleaned, or the constant shoving into lockers, or even the shitty food. All of those could have been contributing factors. But I digress.

... God I hate High School. Yet, where was I the night before the October full moon? Sitting across from a snooty blonde dude who manned the computers in the main office of, you guessed it, Beacon Hills High School. Yeah. I was sitting there when I should've been sleeping off about a months worth of werewolf issues. Instead I was saddled with dealing with blonde guy being a total creep. He kept glaring at me out of the corner of his eye as he typed away. I would hold a glance with him for a few moments, and not entirely a pleasant one, before he would roll his eyes and continue his work. Loser. Even had a lip piercing. Lame. Probably didn't even know how to smile.

But I knew that wasn't true. He smiled. Oh boy did he smile. He smiled when he was looking at Scott. Oh great. A female hating gay. Figures. Just my luck. Thinking that, I snorted. Why would I have assumed luck would be on my side then when it's never been before? Don't know. Maybe I'm an idiot. Frustrated, I slid down in the less-than-plush chair I was sitting in until I was practically lying down flat. My knee was bouncing of its own accord, an impatient tick of mine, while I waited for Scott to get my visitor pass. Honestly, it was taking blondie longer than it should to get the information Scott had sent in the day prior. How much paperwork could he have received since then to pile on top of it?

And was it completely necessary to bat his eyelashes like that? That many times? Jesus Christ that boy sure is forward. I've never looked at _anyone_ so adoringly, ever. Maybe I'm just a wuss. Maybe I'm just a failure as a girl. Well... I already knew that. The world knew that. Still, he was making me feel self-conscious. That, on top of being utterly antsy, was making my inner werewolf twitch incessantly. She didn't like to be threatened in any way shape or form. She wanted to be superior. Always.

"Scoooooott." I whined, kicking my legs like a toddler.

He turned with a knowing look on his face and in those brown puppy dog eyes of his. Like he knew that blondie was eye-fucking him... okay, not necessarily eye-fucking. But he was batting those lashes of his eyes fast enough to create a breeze. And Scott was just smiling. Melissa sure did raise him right. He was all too polite to say something about the attention he was getting. Didn't people know he was straight? Normally I would commend him, I'd even call Melissa, but the sooner I got my pass the sooner I left that damn office. Which smelled like a Yankee Candle store threw up, by the way. So, Scott, hurry it up! I wasn't going to last much longer!

As if reading my mind, that's my wolf boy, he returned his attention to the angry faced secretary, "So, how's the search going?" He asked, leaning his elbows onto the counter.

Blondie flashed a pair of pearly whites that blinded me. I didn't know teeth could get so white. Oh God... my eyes, my eyes, my beautiful blue eyes! "Shouldn't be long now! You filed the papers for Brooke Winston, right?" He asked, tonguing his lip ring.

Scott nodded, "Yes... well... maybe. I might've put it under Brooke Summers."

Blondie arched a brow, "Now why's that? Don't tell me you're getting forgetful, Scotty!" He teased, winking, and entering the new information into the system.

I rolled my eyes, "Because I was married you twit." I groaned, taking the hood of my sweater and pulling it down over my eyes.

As they dealt with my information I pulled out my phone and started playing Cut the Rope. One of the most adorable games ever! Om Nom, you cute little candy muncher, you! I even put a headphone in my ear and turned on some Just Surrender. As I nodded my head along to 'Your Story and Mine', I let out a more than audible yawn. God I was exhausted just sitting there.

Scott looked at me apologetically just as blondie seemed to find the files, "Well, here are the papers. Now all I need is photo ID for confirmation." He stated with a sour tone, resting his chin in his hand. Perfectly acceptable attitude with me calling him a twit and all. I shoved my hand into my sweater pocket, pulled out my wallet, and got out my license. I flicked the laminated card expertly at Scott who caught it with ease. Point one for werewolf reflexes.

"Here." He said as he let blondie look at it. He nodded that everything was clear, "Thanks for this, Eric." He said with a smile. Guess he had a name. Who knew. Well... I knew, I just thought it would've been 'PoleUpButt'. And, no, that is not a play on him being gay, he just was soooo uptight! At least where I was concerned. It was unhealthy... No that I think about it, it might have had something to do with me knocking over the small potted cactus onto his arm. Oops.

"Not a problem, Scott." Eric returned with another flash of his pearly whites. Sweet baby Jesus, as if my retinas didn't burn enough the first time, "Here's the pass. Now get out of here before I get in trouble!" He laughed, dangling a lanyard over the edge of the desk.

Scott smiled, snatching the pass, "I owe you!" He said as he grabbed my hand and started to pull me out of the office.

"I'll collect!"

Once we were down the hall a ways and out of earshot, I laughed, "Dude, watch your back in the locker room." I teased, pinching his left tricep.

Scott turned on his heel and directed an exasperated look at me, "Come on, I know he's isn't exactly a ray of sunshine, but he means well."

I shrugged, "I assume so, but he was about one open door away from physically taking advantage of your perfectly polite attitude." I noted, "You shouldn't give him any false hope like that."

Scott, for whatever reason, laughed, "Oh, no! He's not after me, he likes Danny. He's the goalie for the Lacrosse team. I promised him a good word in exchange for putting your papers through." He informed me, chuckling all the while.

"Well, damn." I scoffed, "Maybe this is why I only ever had one boyfriend! I can't tell who likes who!"

He gave me a pat on the back, "Don't worry, I can't tell much either."

I rolled my eyes, "Says the boy in a happy relationship with the daughter of the man who's trying to kill you." I said with a very quirked brow.

"Yeah... I guess we both have some-"

Before he could finish his sentence, Scott gripped me tight, did not raise me from perdition, and placed me in front of him. Damn. Thought we were having a moment. No. Scott was just ducking down with me as a shield and every few seconds he'd pop up to peer over my shoulder.

I looked down at him, "You dodgin' a bully, prairie dog? I'll kick his ass right now."

He returned my look with disbelief. A false and forced disbelief, "I'm not dodging anyone." He sputtered. Contrary to his words, he quickly put his head back down and out of sight to anyone behind me.

"Sure, and I'm not two freak incidents away from a breakdown." I said sarcastically with a roll of my eyes, "Spill, Scott." I would've put my hands on my hips all sassy like but Scott's grip on my arms was pretty strong.

His brown eyes found mine briefly, "It's nothing!" He insisted.

I groaned, "Scott, I don't have to be a supernatural lie detector to know that you're full of shit." I said bluntly, giving my werewolf cub of a friend a more than commonly occurring incredulous look.

Still he refused to tell me who he was avoiding. With my extremely limited range of motion I threw my head back. And, after a few seconds to orientate myself, I spotted the demon responsible for Scott's latest behaviour. More like she-demon. And more like Allison Argent. I brought my head back slowly, blowing my recently cut hair out of my eyes, and all I could do was glare.

"Allison? You're avoiding _Allison_?" I whispered angrily with a threatening tone, "You decided the day _after_ we went through all the trouble to sneak around Derek so you and future little Miss Werewolf Hunter could hump each other senseless to listen to him? Those heart palpitations I experienced when we were trapped in your car? I still feel them a bit." I growled, "You're lucky you've got those puppy dog eyes or I'd skin you right now."

Said eyes looked up at me apologetically, "I know... I'm sorry I keep dragging you into this." He apologised. And, with that sweet face of his, it took everything I had not to forgive him.

Instead, I sighed, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's just your luck, hunh? You have me for a distraction/look out." I said with a coy smile. But that smile quickly turned to a frown of disbelief when I heard Scott's heart rate flutter a bit, "You... oh you..." I tried to audit through my growing anger, "You're saying that I'm here to keep you distracted?"

He shrugged a little, "More like to keep her distracted." He said cryptically before turning tail and running like the devil was on his backside. I watched him plow over a couple of kids then abruptly turn a corner. Scott was so graceful. Almost as graceful as an elephant.

Upon turning around, I saw Allison coming right for me. Dammit. I was no good with confrontation. What to do what to do! Don't freak out, don't freak out! So I, cool as a cucumber, leaned against the lockers with my arms crossed. Pretending that I wasn't just about to strangle her boyfriend.

"Hello." She greeted with a smile, I nodded, "You're Brooke, Scott's friend, right?" She asked, pointing at me with her purple pen. Wonder if it wrote with purple ink. Focus!

I nodded again, "That I am."

"What are you doing here?" She asked to be polite. I could tell that she just wanted to know where Scott was.

I moved to show her my visitor's pass, but Scott never gave it to me. Wow. Great job ya moron. With my hand just hanging in the air I made some weird motion with it, "You know... stuff." I replied vaguely.

Allison gave me a confused look, "You're not visiting?"

"I am."

Her confused look remained, "Where's your visitor's pass?"

I jabbed my thumb over my shoulder before I could stop myself, "Scott has it."

She smiled, "So you _were_ just talking to him!"

Slowly, I shook my head. Scott owed me BIG for what I was about to do. I did not pretend to be insane for just anyone, "Nope." I said, popping the 'p'.

"So who were you talking to?" Allison continued to push. Girl really wanted to see her boyfriend.

With a shrug of my shoulders, I lied smoothly, "I wasn't talking to anyone."

"You... you were just standing here talking to yourself?" She asked, her confused look returning full force.

Oh, Scott owed me. I'd have rights to his organs should I ever need a transplant by the end of the day for what I was about to do. I was going to pretend that I was insane, "That I was." I continued to lie, "See, I'm what you call emotionally unstable. From my husband dying, to being attacked by some freak animal in the woods, to my truck trying to perform osmosis with a tree, to my house catching fire. I'm one freak accident away from a one way ticket to the looney bin."

Allison's jaw dropped slightly. Yeah. I guess out loud the past few months were unbelievable. What am I saying, in my head it still sounds pretty freaking insane, "Are you... are you alright?" She asked tentatively.

"Oh, yeah. I'm fine. But I need to go find Scott to get my visitor's pass." I said as I moved to leave.

She started to follow, "I'll come with! I need to talk to him, anyway."

'OH COME ON.' I thought. Asking God why the hell he couldn't give me a break just this once! Just once! I couldn't have one thing go my way, could I? No. I couldn't. That's not in the description printed on the label of my life. So, what other tricks did I have in my 'get out of jail' bag? Nothing pretty, lady-like, or delicate, that's for sure.

So I grabbed my stomach and hunched over slightly, "Ooooooo." I moaned, shutting my eyes tightly.

"Are you alright?" Allison asked with a comforting hand to my shoulder.

I shook my head, "Bad breakfast burrito." I explained with the most physically pained expression I could muster before running to the nearest ladies room... okay. I wobbled. I had to really sell it!

Behind the door, I waved at the girls doing their make-up. After a few seconds of pressing my ear against the door to reassure that Allison had, in fact, moved on to search for Scott on her own, I poked my head out. No sign of her to my left or right. Plan: Fake Extreme Intestinal Duress, success! Without really paying attention to were I was looking or heading I just burst out of the wash room and right into a tall lanky kid with toffee coloured hair. He 'oofed', stumbling back a bit and dropping the fairly large Biology book he was carrying.

In the matter of milliseconds, the book was in my hand. It hadn't even had the chance to touch ground. I stood quickly and handed it back to him, "Sorry 'bout that!" I smiled as he gingerly took his textbook from me. Probably unsure of how I actually did that. I'm just amazing. That so hard to believe?

"Th-thanks." He stuttered slightly, removing his bag from his shoulder and to his feet. On the way down, the strap ripped, "Dammit... Dad's going to kill me." He muttered to himself.

As I watched him fumble with the zippers of a backpack that had clearly passed it's expiration date, the door to the girls room opened and hit me right on the butt, sending me into the kid for a second time.

"Shit!" I laughed, "I'm really sorry about all of this, I'm the epitome of klutzy girls." I said playfully while pushing myself away from him. The collision, this time around, had sent him back on his butt. I grabbed his bag by the good strap, offered him a hand, and yanked him to standing and out of the way of the swinging door of death.

His blue eyes widened when we were both upright, "That's a pretty good arm you've got there." He said, motioning to the hand still holding his.

I let his fairly large hand go and waved my smaller one flippantly, "Oh this old thing?" I laughed, "Only thing it's good for is fixing junkers and clunkers." He looked confused so I explained further, "I work at an auto-shop. My best talents are fixing up older cars. IE, junkers and clunkers." I clarified.

"Ohhh." He exclaimed, "Guess that explains it." He chuckled a bit before motioning to his bag in my hand, "You gonna give that back?" He asked playfully.

Even as he said it I yanked it out of his reach, "No. It's mine now," I teased. So instead of returning his beat up bag I planted my back against the wall next to us and retrieved my handy dandy travel sized sowing kit. I lied before. I knew how to sow. I really knew how to sow. Who do you think made all of my sisters pageant gowns? Not someone who was paid to do it, that's for sure. No, just their personal slave. Me. Ugh.

I know I always talk about them like they're the scourge of the Earth, but my older sisters aren't so bad. By older I mean the older sisters of my older sisters. Lynn and Elli. Sometimes Jane, she had her moments. They all had their moments. 99% of them being bitchy or selfish, but still. Moments. Like when I was their seamstress or their chauffeur. For one, I became their personal driver when I was only 13. Yeah. Not the smartest thing ever on their part. But guys didn't really like them because of their brains.

Back to the task at hand, I pulled out all of the small spools of thread I had on me to see which was thickest and would be best for sowing a backpack strap. None that I could find. So, I improvised. At the end of my pant leg, the hemming was starting to fray. A smirk crossed my face when I grabbed hold of a thick thread of denim and I tugged. Slowly and gently pulled is more like it. Eventually the thread reached a decent length and I yanked at it, causing it to snap.

Curious, the kid sat down next to me. He watched me thread my needle, "You don't have to do this, y'know. That bag isn't worth ruining your pants." He stated but made no effort to stop me as I forced said needle through the thick fabric of the strap.

I shrugged, "First I knocked your book out of your hands and then I knocked you back on your ass. I owe you a little something. My pants can get over it, I'm sure." I said with a kind smile.

"Then... thanks." He returned with an adorably shy smirk. God, what was in the water at Beacon High to turn these boys into such cutie pies?!

After half a minute or so I finished up the stitching and tested the strength of the thread, "Here you go." I said, handing him his bag, "That should hold for a couple of days. But I'd get a new one, ASAP."

With a nod, he stood, and offered me his hand. I graciously accepted and was promptly pulled up from the cold floor of the hallway. Once we were both standing, he smiled at me, "Thanks." Was all he said before turning and heading to wherever life would take him. At least he thanked me. And he was blushing.

I smiled despite myself, brushing off the dirt that had accumulated on my butt. Would it really kill someone to sweep? Say, the janitor? The man paid to clean? Or woman! Women could be janitors too! And damn good ones! But that wasn't important just then. I had to find Scott. The kid who abandoned me without even telling me where his first class was.

Jerk.

Luckily I had my fancy shmancy werewolf senses to pick him out of the surprisingly large crowd (how could Beacon Hills have so many rugrats? There ain't that many people in the small ass town to begin with). I turned on the super hearing and sifted through each individual unique teen voice on the premises. Eventually I found him. He was talking to himself. What a nut. I kept his voice in the back of my head as I weaved in and out of the clusters of students. I might have had to save him before someone heard him and shipped him off to the convent.

As I started to get closer to my intended target I was able to hear what he mumbling about. He was constantly telling himself to stay away from Allison. Good boy! Then he was saying something about avoiding Jackson, whoever Jackson was. And that's when I found him. Not before he yelled, "Oh, come on!"

I flicked Scott directly between the eyes before he could royally freak the fuck out, "Calm your ass." I commanded. I command ye to calm thy arse!

"Brooke, save me." He pled, "They're everywhere!"

I arched a brow, "What's everywhere?" I managed to ask before he grabbed my flimsy girl wrist and dragged me down the hall away from a girl I recognised to be none other than THEE Lydia Martin! I directed a confused look at her, pointing to Scott and making the crazy motion with my free hand. She looked confused but wrote it off. I don't know why I was trying to explain myself. She's the one who called me crazy the other week!

Besides that, Scott was pulling me every which way like a rag doll. It wasn't a minute later and we had arrived to, what I assumed to be, Scott's first class. As we crossed the threshold I punched him in the arm.

"Pass!" I growled through clenched teeth with my palm open.

He made some noise that sounded like an exclamation and dug around in his pocket. Not being able to find it there, he trained his attention onto his backpack. I watched his mocha hand dive into the largest pocket and retrieve the red and white lanyard a moment later. Go Beacon Hills!

Fuck school spirit.

With that in mind I moved to hang the pass around my neck, careful to avoid my headphones. Like it mattered, "No headphones in my class." The teacher muttered from his pompous spot in his pompous chair at his pompous desk. I rolled my eyes but I took out my earbuds and followed Scott to the back of the class. Ohoho. Wasn't he a rebel. And who was already in that immediate direction? Mr. Stiles Stilinski. As we passed to sit behind him I knocked on his desk twice. He smiled at me and scowled fiercely at Scott. Guess there was still some bad air between the two. I wanted to ask, but I couldn't.

It was not my place.

You know what was my place? The corner desk. Yeah. Shove the grease monkey into a corner. Nice job. Love you too, Scott. I did not vocalise my displeasure, instead we took our seats. Scott's being next to mine and Stiles' being in front of him. Weren't we a bunch of misfits? Well... Scott and Stiles sure as hell were.

Clearly Scott wanted to talk to his silent friend. He was just too scared to do so. After a while I reached over and flicked the kids ear and motioned towards his best friend. He just shook his head, rubbing his ear. I scooted my chair closer to him and rapidly flicked both his ear and his neck multiple times. Several finger nails to skin later and the 16 year old caved.

He fidgeted a bit and leaned over his desk so he could speak quietly to Stiles, "Still not talking to me?" Scott asked only to receive complete and utter silence from a usually more than audible Stiles. He exhaled loudly, "'Kay can you at least tell me if your dad's okay?" He continued, "I mean... it's just a bruise, right? Some... soft tissue damage? Nothing that big?"

Stiles persisted in his omertàs. It was like the Godfather all over again. Feeling defeated, Scott sank back in his seat, "What are you doing?!" I whispered just loud enough for him to hear, "Keep pushing you wuss!"

Scott rolled his eyes but obeyed. He leaned forward once more, "You know I feel... really _bad_ about it, right?" I carefully watched Stiles less than conspicuously, gaging his reaction. He looked pissed. And his right eye twitched, slightly. I motioned for him to continue to which Scott replied with another loud exhale of angst filled teen breath, "Okay. What if I told you that I-I'm trying to figure this whole thing out and..." He looked to me, I gave him a thumbs up. His attention returned to the back of Stiles' shaved head, "that I went to Derek for help?"

My head immediately whipped towards Stiles to see what was going to happen next. He threw his head to the side, his usual 'what the fuck' expression, "If I was talking to you I'd say that you're an _idiot_ for trusting him." Stiles projected with his body remained facing towards the front of the class, "But obviously I'm not talking to you."

Stiles had the last word before the bell rang, nearly forcing me out of my skin. I was so concentrated on their conversation I was completely unaware to what was happening around us. Not an uncommon occurrence.

I gave Scott a pat to the shoulder. He made a valiant effort and I respected that. He returned my gesture with a sad smile when I saw Stiles fidgeting out of the corner of my eye. Curious little critter! A smile broke out across my face as he continued to fidget and, eventually, drumming his pencil against his notebook. I sat back in my chair and clapped once. Earning me a glare from the teacher. Whatever. I didn't care, because Stiles turned around to face his best friend and asked,

"What did he say?"

I turned to Scott and held my hand up high. Scott got the message and high-fived me brilliantly. True best friends never stayed mad at each other for long. A great fact of life. I mostly kept to myself for the next however-so minutes long the class was. Occasionally I'd comment on what Scott was telling Stiles. Then I introduced myself when the teacher called me out. Then I was questioned thoroughly about my knowledge of Sylvia Plath. To which I responded with the lovely fact that she stuck her head in an oven and died from carbon monoxide poisoning. That was the extent of my Sylvia Plath knowhow as well as the last time the teach called on me. Score one for Brooke!

Finally, after minutes of torturous discussions of Jane Eyre and depression in writers, class was dismissed by the glorious sound of the bell. Stiles, Scott, and I left the room in a hurry. We needed to talk more about the werewolf business! As they walked out ahead of me I squeezed myself between them. I didn't like being out of the loop.

"He wants you guys to tap into your animal side and get angry?" Stiles asked us.

I shook my head, "Not me. I don't have a problem with shifting."

Scott gave me a look, "Yeah. Not all of us can be that lucky, Brooke."

Stiles interjected, "Right, well, correct me if I'm wrong, but every time you do that you try to kill someone." He exclaimed, "And that someone's usually me."

I whipped around to look at Scott, "Maybe this isn't the best idea..."

"I know." He lamented, looking extra angsty in that exact moment, "What other choice do I have? Derek doesn't even know if he can teach me..." He sighed, "I have to be able to control it."

Though Scott was close to having a moment, Stiles interrupted, "Well how is he going to teach you how to do that?"

A thought occurred to me just then and it was so funny I had to audit, "Pavlov's dogs!"

They both turned and looked at me, "What?" Scott asked.

I chuckled, those boys needs a better edumacation! "Pavlov's dogs! A psychological experiment where Ivan Pavlov got dogs to salivate before they were served their food." Still their confusion remained, "It's all about classical conditioning! Like, every time you got angry, Derek would beat you with a bat and then you would be dissuaded to turn. So then you'd see the bat and you would subconsciously keep yourself from shifting!" I explained with much excitement. It excited me muchly.

"Brooke. You're nuts." Scott said with a laugh.

I shrugged, "Guilty."

Next to me, Stiles rolled his head, an impatient tell, "Seriously! How is Derek going to teach your little werewolf ass to control your transformation?!"

"I don't know. I-I don't think he does either." Scott confessed, stuttering slightly.

Stiles rolled his head again and closed his eyes tight, the 'are you kidding me' tell, "Okay, when are you seeing him again?"

I was about to say 'we have no clue' but apparently that would've been a false statement, "He just told me not to talk about it." Scott explained, "Just act normal and get through the day-"

Scott was interrupted by Stiles when he reached behind me and pulled on his best friends shirt, successfully ceasing all of our movements, "When?" Stiles asked seriously.

"He's picking me up at the animal clinic after work." Scott said, almost nervous. Like Derek was somehow going to find out and skin him. Hey. It was possible.

"After work." Stiles repeated, making a noise somewhere in the ballpark of Seabiscuit, "Alright, well that gives me the end of the school day, then." He informed us. I smelled plan. I could actually smell it and that was weird.

Hesitantly, Scott opened his mouth to voice a question he probably did not want to know the answer to, "To do... what?"

"To teach you myself." Stiles said with an unprecedented amount of badassery. Like, seriously! I didn't know he had that in him!

From English we went to some other class where I was not bothered when I sat in the corner and played Tap Tap Revenge 3. That I thoroughly enjoyed. I didn't have a fancy phone when I went through High School the first time. It definitely helped me get through Scott's classes.

And then there was lunch. Of course there was lunch, it was the only time during the day that staff could legally serve students food that made them blow chunks. So the three of us sat at the table closest to the vending machines. Well... Stiles and I sat. Scott was hiding behind Stiles' history book. Who was he hiding from? The more than exquisite Allison Argent while she spewed facts about some werewolf type creature that her family was famous for killing to the more than brutally bored Lydia Martin.

I knew her pain. While Scott was hiding and vividly listening into the girls conversation Stiles was writing out some mumbo jumbo in the worst chicken scratch I had ever seen. So I had no one to talk to. Nothing to do except chew on the slices of cucumber Stiles got me from the lunch line. Granted they were less than disgusting, they did not relieve my boredom in the slightest.

I was eventually saved when Stiles got fed up with watching Scott peer over the top of his textbook shield every five seconds, "I think the book's making it _more_ obvious." He said after grabbing hold of his book and tipping it towards him. I looked over my shoulder at Allison. She was sans Lydia but her nose was buried deep in some old book.

"Besides she reading anyway." I exasperated with a gesture towards Scott's beloved. I turned back to more silence between the two. Still? Wasn't there a limit to how long best friends could be pissed at each other?

At least Scott look interested in whatever Stiles was writing in his notebook. He even risked exposure with his head in full view over his shield, "So did you come up with a plan, yet?" He asked in his kindest voice.

Stiles nodded, "I think so." He concurred as he chomped down on his apple.

I threw my hands up in the air, "Huzzah! Our mastermind strikes again!" I exclaimed with a smile. My loud voice forced the wild McCall back into hiding, afraid that the Argent might've been distracted by my loudness. After a second or so, he poked his shaggy head back out.

"Does that mean you don't hate me now?" He asked sheepishly.

I turned to Stiles, hoping that he was going to say yes and the two would embrace in a manly embrace of man. But instead I got, "No." He said adamantly, "But your crap has infiltrated my life so, now, I have to do something about it." He explained, earning an eye roll from me, "Plus I'm definitely a better Yoda than Derek."

I snorted, "Can't argue with that." I agreed, nudging Stiles with my elbow.

Scott nodded slightly, "Okay, yeah, you teach me."

"Yeah, I'll be your Yoda." Stiles continued with his Star Wars metaphor.

Sort of reading the book he was hiding behind, Scott sarcastically said, "Yeah, you be my Yoda."

Then Stiles chuckled and, in a Yoda voice, said, "Your Yoda, I will be!"

I couldn't help it, I laughed. He had said it in such a funny voice and at just the right time. It was hilarious. I also had a really simple sense of humour. Scott, on the other hand, didn't seem so amused.

Stiles looked at Scott, chuckling slightly, "I said it backwards-"

"Yeah, I-I know." He interrupted.

Now that was something Stiles would not stand for. The oversight of his earth shattering humour, "Alright, you know what, I definitely still hate you. Ah huh hunh! Oh yeah!" He exclaimed, grabbing his textbook from Scott and turning to me, "Brooke, I require your expertise."

I gave it a thought, "Sounds fun." I said, standing and following Stiles to wherever we were going. I was going to wave goodbye to Scott, but he was already gone. Allison was out of her seat and calling his name. Oops. The chase was on! Run Scott, run!

* * *

**Author's Note: I lied. Again. I'm sorry I keep lying to you, but I just keep writing and writing and I don't know when to stop! And when typing on an iPad I have no idea how much I have written. Chapter 17 is when it all goes down (hopefully) but you _will_ meet one of James' brothers next chapter. That much I can promise you. And unless I decide you throw in an extra scene with Derek (which I just might do because he's been so lacking lately!) Chapter 17 will take place during "Night School". I LOVE YOU ALL. THANK YOU FOR THE REVIEWS. THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHING. I'M DOING MY BEST TO GET THIS OUT. xoxo, Momma Love**


	17. Chapter 16: A Prelude: Part One

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Sixteen: A Prelude to Shit Hitting the Fan, Part I**

* * *

As the title entails, shit hits the fan a lot in my werewolf filled experience. This is the first prelude of many. Don't worry, you'll have several chances to watch my life go up in smoke. It happens quite often, if you haven't noticed. Yet, everything that has happened to me thus far does not fall under the "shit hitting the fan" category. No. There's a whole other side of terrifying you haven't even imagined, let alone seen.

But I can't just jump right in without a little build up! Got to have a proper plot! Which meant more of the hormonal teenagers. We resume my not-so-epic tale after Stiles and I worked our asses off to obtain the proper instruments for teaching Scott to control his transformation. It was a riot, too. When Stiles said he needed my 'expertise' I had no idea he meant turning into a werewolf and scaring the shit out of Coach Finstock. Yeah. That was fun. I'm going to save that story for a rainy day.

Onward to beating up Scott!

Scott, Stiles, and I were heading out to the smaller lacrosse field with lacrosse sticks in tow. Two to be exact. Along with several other goodies we 'gathered'. In Stiles' hand was the heart monitor and Coach's phone while I carried a relatively heavy bag of lacrosse balls. Let's just say I drew the short stick in that situation. Not that I really noticed. Werewolf strength, hollah!

Once we set foot on the field Stiles sat down on the bleachers and I dropped the bag of balls, "Okay, now put this on." Stiles demanded, handing Scott the heart monitor.

Scott's eyes wigged out a little at the sight of it, "Isn't this one of the heart rate monitors for the track team?" He asked.

"Yeah, we borrowed it." Stiles replied and I nodded.

Scott didn't look convinced, "Stole it?"

My jaw dropped, "I resent that!" I informed my surrogate brother.

Stiles looked up at Scott in exasperation, "Temporarily misappropriated." He said in an uncharacteristically tired tone.

"Nice vocab you got there." I teased, sitting down next to Stiles as he prepped himself to inform Scott of his plan.

"Coach uses it to monitor his heart rate with his phone while he jogs and you're going to wear it for the rest of the day." He explained, motioning to the phone n his hand.

Scott looked to the cellular device that clearly did not belong to Stiles, "Isn't that Coach's phone?"

"That I stole." Stiles lied.

I gaped at him and punched him square in the shoulder, "That _I_ stole, thank you very much."

Stiles rubbed his offended shoulder, "Okay, we both stole it."

"No, I stole it. You stood guard." I continued. I was taking credit for that amazing feat for it was mine and mine alone.

In front of us, Scott rolled his eyes, "It doesn't matter _who_ stole it... but why did you 'temporarily misappropriate' the heart monitor and steal Coach's phone?" He asked.

"Alright," Stiles started to explain, "well your heart rate goes up when you go wolf, right?" He asked rhetorically, "When you're playing lacrosse, when you're with Allison, whenever you get angry."

"Whenever you get chased through the woods by a raging lunatic." I added flippantly.

Stiles snapped his fingers and pointed at me, "Exactly." He smiled at me before returning his attention back to Scott, "Maybe learning to control it is tied to learning to control your heart rate." A very probable argument! And just by looking at Scott's smiling face, he believed it too... for different reasons.

"Like the Incredible Hulk." He said, thoroughly enjoying those words rolling right off his tongue.

I sighed and shook my head. Being the Incredible Hulk in the circumstances of getting angry and destroying everything around you did not sound like good thing. Stiles and I shared a look, "Kind of like the Incredible Hulk." He agreed solely for Scott's benefit.

The smiling idiot, "Naw. I'm like the Incredible Hulk." Scott declared.

Without really thinking I kicked my leg out and into his shin. He yelped. Served him right, "Will you stop enjoying this so much?" I asked, frustration seeping into my tone.

He looked at me in disbelief, "What? I'm not! It's just that it's a little bit cool to-"

"Will you just shut up and put the strap on?" Stiles asked, almost as fed up with Scott's bull shit as I was.

Scott sighed in compliance, "Fine." He grumbled, wrapping the strap of the monitor around his wrist and securing the Velcro.

"Alright." I said, clapping my hands together and standing, "Let's get this show on the road!"

Stiles followed suit and led both Scott and me out into the middle of the field. Before we made it to our intended destination I ran back and grabbed the bag of lacrosse balls. In the bag I noticed a thick roll of duct tape. Several scenarios played through my head. All ending in one realization: Oh, this was going to be fun.

With the bag swung over my shoulder I ran back to the boys. I dropped my haul down in front of Stiles and he immediately went for the tape, "Brooke, where do you stand on child abuse?" He asked me playfully.

"Well..." I had to think of a witty way to respond, "usually I'm against the whole ordeal. But werewolves are the one exception." I retorted with a wink.

Our soon-to-be punching bag looked at us nervously, "You're... you're kidding, right?" He asked. I could practically here him try to swallow the metaphorical lump in his throat.

"Nope. Turn around, Scotty boy." Stiles demanded, standing and pulling off a decent sized piece of tape. Reluctantly, he did as he was told.

I watched Stiles hold Scott's hands together and secure them with several layers of duct tape. Once Stiles was satisfied he reached down and tossed me a lacrosse stick. I caught it easily. I rolled it in my palms a few dozen times, "For your sake, Scott, I hope all of my lacrosse experience comes through."

He looked at me, a glimmer of hope apparent in his brown eyes, "You played lacrosse?"

I shook my head, "Nope. But I watch a _lot_ of games." I said with a smile.

"No more idle chit-chat." Stiles ordered, "Scott needs to concentrate on his heart rate."

I pretended to zip my mouth shut and gave Admiral Stilinski a proper salute. Stiles then picked up the bag and we both moved a good distance away from our intended target. Then, we set up camp. Stiles turned on Coach's phone, I grabbed the first two projectiles.

"So this is not exactly how I wanted to spend my free period!" Scott yelled across the empty space between us.

I rolled my eyes, "Think of it this way. If you weren't here then you'd be running from Allison! It's a win win!" I reassured him, tossing my lacrosse ball up in the air and narrowly catching it half a dozen or so times.

Stiles copied my movements for a bit. The show was about to start, "Alright, are you ready?" He asked him defenseless friend.

"No?" Scott said, fidgeting at the thought of what was to come.

Scott's lack of being ready did not deter the hyperactive teen next to me, "Remember: don't get angry." He clarified, pulling up the proper app on Coach's phone.

"Getting angry isn't what I'm worried about!" Scott whined, "What if Brooke breaks my nose?"

"Then great thing you have the magical lycanthropy affliction!" I continued to reassure with less than reassuring words.

Scott sighed, "I'm starting to think this is a really bad idea!"

"What's the worst that can happen?" I laughed.

Before Scott could respond to that, Stiles whipped a ball at him as hard as he could. He let out a relieved laugh. Stiles was probably getting out 13 years or so of pent up aggression towards his best friend right then. Then it was my turn. I brought the net back and cranked out that ball with all I had. Which was, probably, considerably more than Stiles.

My personal projectile hit Scott right in the side, forcing him to keel over slightly, "Okay... that one. Kinda hurt!" He managed to get out. If he could talk we weren't hitting him hard enough. I reached down for another ball when my phone started buzzing in my back pocket. I checked the screen to see if it was an app yelling at me or... a call. Definitely getting a call.

I removed my headphones and motioned to Stiles that I'd be right back. The number displayed wasn't one I recognized. Not a really shock. I rarely put people's numbers into my phone because I don't text people. It's not something I do. Email, yes. Calling, yes. No texting. Another groundbreaking invention that I did not need.

Pushing all those thoughts aside it accepted the call and put it against my ear, "Hello?"

"Brookie! What's happening?" The person I determined to be male asked.

I pulled my phone away and looked at the number again. It had a Fleursville area code, that's for sure, and the person seemed to know me. I brought the phone back to my ear, "Who is this?" I asked tentatively.

The person guffawed, "Brooke-Lynn Sophia Winston Summers! I am _offended_. OFFENDED!" They chastised me through the phone, "No, scratch that. I am _HORRIFIED_ that you have forgotten me so easily!"

"I... I don't have your number! Whoever you are!" I tried to explain, completely caught off guard.

He groaned, "Still. You should have known who is was by the melodic sound of my voice!" He continued.

I rubbed at my chin and tried to connect all of the facts... Fleursville, abrasive young man... oh shit. I deserved the lecture I had received, "Coooonner." I cooed, "What say you to completely forgetting that past minute or so?" I asked in the cutesy girl voice I could muster.

"No. No, not allowed." Conner refused adamantly. I could hear his hands on his hips and his hip cocked. Conner is what you would call metrosexual. He's completely and utterly fabulous while being the straightest bean stalk in the bunch.

If I haven't mentioned him before, no idea why I would've, haven't talked to him since he was twelve, he's James' half-brother. Conner VanEtten. The oldest of James' half brothers on his mom's side during her marriage to John VanEtten. There were a dozen elder half-brothers from previous marriages. I only knew a few. None more so than the eldest VanEtten.

Conner was the adorable kid with short curly dark blonde hair and dark green eyes. And he was a whole lot of trouble. Snakes underneath your covers, worms in your spaghetti, and Nair in your shampoo. He was the absolute worst... and the most adorable. It wasn't fair. The rest of his siblings have their mom's narrow face as opposed to their dad's jolly cheeks. Conner is somewhere in between. Actually... he looks more like Dommy than his dad John. It always made me wonder, not that I ever said anything to anyone about it. One of life's great mysteries, I suppose.

"Okay. You win. I take it back." Conner said, bringing me back to our conversation. I must've blanked out a bit. Eh. It happens.

"Cool." I chuckled, "Why are you calling me anyway, you brat."

He gasped, "I'll have you know that I'm 16 and fierce now. Totally not a brat at all. Not in the slightest. Yesterday I even-"

"CONNER." I laughed/yelled, "Why'd you call?"

He 'hmm'ed and 'hummm'ed a bit, "Uh... oh yeah! Thought I'd check in with you seeing as I'm at your house right now. Wow, you really let the place go." He critiqued... wait... my house?

"What the hell are you doing in Beacon Hills! Your mother must be worried sick!" I hissed into the receiver at him. Now I did not like Marla VanEtten (formerly Marla Summers, Marla Dublé, Marla Wilkinson, Marla Petrovich, so on and so forth), she jumped between marriages like kids jumped hopscotch, but she cared for her kids. The most admirable trait she had and quite possibly the only one. Just wait, she'd open a whole other world of problems down the road.

Conner, on the other hand, did not sound bothered in the least that he was 200 or so miles away from his parents. And with good reason, "Eh. Mom up and left a couple of weeks ago. We got the divorce papers in the mail the other day. She's gone. Not even so much as a goodbye." He told me with a forced nonchalance. Oh... maybe there wasn't much of a family left to miss him (don't know how that's even possible seeing as he has twelve immediate siblings, not counting the endless amounts of half-siblings that seemed to just keep growing and growing).

My heart broke for the kid. I never knew my mom so I couldn't sympathise, but I sure as hell could empathise, "Dude... I'm sorry. I know this is probably a really rough time for you and I'm not trying to be insensitive, I'm just not in any condition to be there for you right now. There's a lot going on here that I'm been forced to deal with." I tried to explain to the best of my ability. With my free ear plugged I looked back at Stiles having a little too much fun beating Scott senseless. I silenced a snort.

On the other hand, Conner laughed, "Nah, it's all good. I don't need you to hold my hand; I just needed to get out of there."

Even though he couldn't see me, I nodded, "I know how that is. Maybe now that our house burned down I'll actually freaking move. Get an apartment or something." I mumbled, mostly to myself. Then I got back on track with the conversation, "Anyways, how long you staying?"

"Few weeks, maybe."

My eyes bugged out, "Um, _where_ are you staying?" I reiterated, seriously regretting my incapability to reach through the phone and slap the boy silly.

He made an audible shrug, "I was sort of hoping..."

"No." I rushed out, "No, no, no, no! I'm already staying at a friends house and I am _not_ forcing _you_ on her. There is a lot of things I will do for you but letting you torture some poor woman is not one of those things."

"What makes you think-" He started to object.

"Your allergy to gluten, your allergy to dairy, your allergy to pistachios, your allergy to peanuts, your allergy to dogs, your allergy to living." I said sarcastically, "All of the special quirks that makes you you would slowly drive Melissa insane."

He sighed, "What I was trying to say was that I was hoping that you'd put me up in a cheap-o motel for awhile."

"Oh..." I muttered, more than a little embarrassed by my assumptions, "I guess that..." I started to say, "wait, no. You know Dom and Pam, right?" I asked my brother-in-law.

Conner didn't speak for a second, no doubt sifting through his 16 years of existence for Dominick and Pamela Summers, "Yeeeah. I think so, little red headed woman and the lumberjack?" He asked in a voice that sounded more than strained.

I snorted, Dom the Lumberjack, I liked it, "Yeah, that's them. They've got a guest house out back. I'll give them a call later if you want." I offered, taking another glance to the Neanderthals. Scott was doing pretty well considering I just saw him take a shot right to the throat.

"What makes you think that they'd take me in?" Conner asked, clearly skeptical of the whole situation.

I would be too. If it weren't their overly large hearts and the constant stream of Marla's offspring, "Let's just say you aren't the only half-sibling of James to wander through Beacon Hills."

"Ah." He exclaimed, "I'd pretend to be shocked but we both know how Ma is." I chuckled, "Wait... if you're so close to those two, why aren't you staying there?" That's a good point. Why didn't I ask them?

Oh yeah. I couldn't take anymore looks of pity from Pam or I'd burst. They hadn't ceased since James died. I didn't tell Conner this. Instead I said something along the lines of, "You know, there is probably a really good explanation for why I'm not there. A really, _really_, good explanation that makes sense and everything, but I'm burning my Häagan Daz so I'll have to call you back." I said, ending the call, shoving my phone into my back pocket, and running towards the field.

You're probably wondering why the hell I said _that_. You see, it's easy. I said the first thing that came to mind when I saw Scott hunched over, knees on the ground, werewolf strength ripping through his more than secured duct tape, the works. Shifting. Let's just say that other circumstances required my utmost attention. I couldn't think of an excuse that made perfect sense.

In a flash I was kneeling next to my fellow werewolf with a reassuring hand rubbing his back. His body lurched forward and I could feel a snarl starting to take hold in his core. I continued to rub his back in some odd hopes to deter his transformation when Stiles realized that shit was going down. He dropped his unique implement of abuse and ran over to us.

I barely paid the neurotic teen any heed, "It's okay, breathe." I whispered to Scott, holding onto his shoulder, never ceasing my weird movement of my hand on his back.

His claws forced their way out of their beds and dug down into the dirt, he wasn't in control. And that affected me as well. It was getting hard for me to sit there calmly. Deep inside me I felt like I would implode if I didn't shift with him. Like shifting would've been the most natural response on the planet. So not only was I trying to settle Scott, I had keep myself in check as well.

Soon after that Scott was able to bring himself down, much to my relief. I separated myself from him and concentrated on breathing. Inhaling the good, exhaling the bad, all that shit. I know I wasn't the best person there was to train Scott, seeing as his transformations seemed to influence mine as well, I just... I had to try. It didn't sit well with me to have the perpetually angry Derek getting Scott to the breaking point. If he managed to hurt someone and they got sent to the hospital: Melissa would see it. And I wanted to shield her as much as possible from this world. Scott wasn't the only one.

"You okay there, Brooke?" Stiles asked, his hand resting on my forearm.

Finding my throat to be more than moderately dry, I nodded, "Yeah." I barely managed to audit.

He kept his curious brown eyes on me, then they quickly darted back to Scott, "You both started to change."

Scott looked up at me, "Why did you...?" He started to asked, still not in control enough to finish his sentence.

"I think because you did." I explained to the best of my ability.

Stiles whipped his head up to look at me, "Really?" He returned to Scott, "Why did you-"

"I was angry..." He interrupted hastily, almost unsure of himself, "It was more than that." He reiterated, "The angrier I got... the stronger I felt."

"So it is anger, then." Stiles attempted to clarify.

Next to him, I nodded solemnly, "Derek's right."

Scott nodded as well but he was panting, "I can't be around Allison." He said cryptically between his huffing and puffing.

I reached out and rubbed his shoulder whilst Stiles still did not understand. I did. I knew exactly why he thought he couldn't be around her, "Just because she makes you happy?" He asked, clearly clueless to the whole thing.

"No," Scott returned, "because she makes me weak."

Stiles opened his mouth to object, I silenced him with a glare from my blue eyes. It wasn't the time to knit-pick through the extremely mysterious details of being a werewolf. We are who we are. Deep down we both knew that weakness was out of the question. And while Scott knew how to cut out that part of his life, I didn't. Even then if I thought about James for too long I'd break down in tears. It's not like I tried to recover either. I went to all of the recommended therapy and then some. Losing James still left me raw. I didn't know why, but it was like the world just kept rubbing salt in the wounds. Like I wasn't allowed to be happy, to live a normal life.

Yeah. The Alpha kind of shot that horse in the face. I shook my head. Not only was my mind wandering I still wasn't completely stable. I watched Scott and Stiles stand, the former offering me his hand. I accepted the gesture and, with his help, stood as well. I went to scratch my head only to find that I couldn't. The French braid sort of inhibited that. Frustrated, I yanked it out. Why couldn't anything in my life ever go my way?

"You okay?" Scott asked, apparently aware to my current condition, "Your eyes are glowing."

Dammit. I hated being a werewolf, "Yeah. I'm fine. But I think I'm going to skip the rest of the day just in case." I said, fluffing out my hair, "I have to make a couple of calls anyways... and a couple of stops."

He arched a brow at me, "Have something to do with the call you got a few minutes ago?" Scott asked.

I nodded and touched my nose, "Right on the money." I tried to joke. I chuckled slightly, followed by a heavy sigh, "You guys head to class. I'll get a ride." I said when they both looked like they were going to ask me about getting home.

They shared a look with each other, a worried look. Like I'd go all homicidal on a bunch of bunnies, "If you're sure..." Scott muttered.

"I'm sure." I confirmed, removing the visitor's pass from around my neck and placing it in his hands, "I'm too cool for this joint anyway." I continued to joke in some hope to lighten the mood.

You can imagine how well that went over. But, we were done. The boys retrieved their lacrosse gear and walked me to the front of the school. We said our goodbyes, they went to class, I leaned against the bike rack as I redialed Conner's number. I was so stressed already and the shit hadn't even hit the fan. Lucky me. I feel like I say that a lot. Never have I meant it sincerely (to my knowledge).

With my phone pressed to my ear I thought back to Scott's transformation. If they were so easily triggered, meaning mine in response to his, were we going to ever be able to control it? It wouldn't matter if you were the most careful person on the planet; if one of us shifted, the other would have to fit tooth and nail not to as well. A real hindrance. I'll learn to use it to my advantage. Don't you worry. It's just, at the time, it freaked me out.

The sudden 'click' of my accepted call brought me back, "'Ello?"

"Hey." I said sheepishly.

Conner made an impatient sound, "How's your burning Häagan Daz?" He asked sarcastically.

Yeah... figured as much, "Listen, there was a real good explanation as to why I had to hang up so suddenly and you're just going to have to trust me in that it was a really _good_ reason too." I rushed out, hoping to the Lord baby Jesus that he'd just accept my excuse... poor as it may be.

"You... you seriously want me to accept that?" He asked in his extra sassy voice.

I sighed, "Yes."

"Alright. Sounds good to me."

Okay. Wasn't expecting that. But I won't complain! Less reasoning on my part is always a good thing, "Good... so... did you drive here?" He made a noise in the affirmation, "Mind picking me up from BHHS?" I did not SAY the schools acronym, I'm just tired of typing the full name.

"If you pay for gas." He said, accepting my offer and even negotiating a price! Someone raised this boy right!

"Thanks Conner, I'll see you soon." I finished.

"Addio."

My phone 'booped' at me, signalling the end of the call. Meaning that it was time to dial the next number... Pam's. Conner needed a place to stay and I was _not_ paying for him to hole up in some shady motel. I've seen Supernatural. He ain't goin' near that shit.

Anyways, with shaky hands I selected Pam out of my contacts and hit her cell phone number. I pressed my phone against my ear and prayed that she wouldn't answer. That she was too busy at the station or her phone was off or something. I did not want to talk to her yet... I was desperate to. I wanted to hear her swoon over men too many years her junior, I wanted her to pine over my choice in clothing, I wanted her to chastise me for being attracted to a man who was accused of murder, I wanted to smell her unique scent of Marb's, cream soda, and spearmint, I wanted Pam.

And Pam picked up on the second ring, "Hello." She said in an almost monotone voice. I was about to wonder if she knew it was me... she did.

"Hey, Pam." I said in return, "How's it been?"

She huffed. I was in for an earful, "Oh, I don't know. Worried sick that a girl I consider to be my daughter hasn't called me or talked to me since her house burned down. Worried sick that this girl hasn't been to either of her jobs in days. Worried sick that this girl has gotten in with the wrong crowd! What;s _happened_ to you girl?" Pam gushed, tears in her voice. By the volume she limited herself to she was at the station. I could hear Tracy and Ian asking if I was on the other end. God... I really cut them all off, didn't I.

I sighed, "I... I know, I should've called I just-"

"No! There no excuse!" She interrupted, "We've all been worried about you, Brooklyn! The anniversary of James' death is just around the corner and we're wondering if we need to track down Ms. Morrell!"

'_Ms_._ Morrell, AKA the shrink most accustomed to people on the verge of psychosis_.' I thought bitterly to myself. She asked me a bunch of questions that didn't appear to make any sense saying that it was for the benefit of my recovery. News flash lady. I wouldn't recover from the ordeal for another year and a half. And let's just say I didn't recover in the healthiest way.

I didn't mention my distaste for my old therapist... not that I had a chance to. Pam started ranting again;

"And if you even _think_ that it's okay to simply _call_ me after all this time, you're sorely mistaken. I know I'm not your mother but you are _not_ allowed to just cast me off when you go through things like this! And let's not forget that you were in a pretty strange car accident the other week! Oh! On top of all that, you're currently seeing a possible murderer!" I was about to object when Pam continued, "Don't you dare deny it! People have seen him coming and going from your house like it's nobody's business!

"But it's not _nobody's_ business. It's _my_ business. It's _Dom's_ business. It's Tracy's, Ian's, Nick's, Ray's, Trent's, it's _all _of our _business_! You may not know it, Brooke, but you're family. It's doesn't matter if you're married to James or not. Your like a daughter to us here at the gas station and over there at the garage... you can't... you can't just scare us all like that!" She finished, unable to yell at me anymore without crying. Her sobs were more than saddening, they were heart wrenching.

On the other end I could hear Tracy and Ian trying to calm her down. I could just picture her with her short red curls. She would've collapsed to her knees, never mind the fact that she had Osgood-Schlatter's, her hands would clasp around her throat from the pain of her tears, she'd rip off her tennis shoes in frustration, and her purple mascara would run.

And me? I was silencing my cries with a hand over my mouth. I felt the wetness of my tears and even my snot. My eyes were shut tight as if trying to hopelessly contain the salty substance pouring from their ducts. I knew that if I tried to speak, I wouldn't be able to. I was crying too hard. Almost as hard as the night I dreamed that I murdered James.

Murdering James wasn't real, though. Pam was real. Everyone was real. I couldn't just run away from them now that I was a werewolf. My old life didn't stop the night I was bitten. I had to live in two different worlds. One where I'd turn into a bloodthirsty version of myself whenever pushed to far in any which direction, and one where I was loved unconditionally by the people around me. Sure, balancing the two would drive me insane, but I'd be grateful for it in the long run.

I looked up at the beat up old Taurus sitting in front of me. Sitting on the hood of it was Conner. Waiting for me to make the next move. I removed my hand from my mouth and mumbled, "Pam... I'll be there soon."

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**Author's Note: We're on schedule! Yay! Chapter Seventeen: The Alpha's Back and Brooke's in for a world of hurt for her first Full Moon. Seeing as she spends the day with Derek. Remember how Scott acted during the day of his second full moon? Expect something along those lines ;) I love spoiling you guys.**

**_Pay attention_! This is the rough draft seeing as I'm not at a computer. Well... a computer that I'm accustomed too. When I get home I'll reread everything and I'll add the little things that just amp up the aesthetics of the piece. **

**Thank you for the reviews! And the patience! All on my iPhone and iPad. A lot of work but a lot of pay-off!**

**Ariaana: Yes, there is a reason for this. I think it is unrealistic to suddenly throw a character into the storyline and have them present in all situations (especially since Brooke is 19) immediately. She will better assimilate once I start writing her into Season Two. I also miss Derek and I'm super glad you like my story! I'm trying to keep it different (which is hard with a story like this) without diverging too far too soon.**

**Trust me, I have tons of drama set up for Brooke from all angles. Tell me who you think she'd get along with because I have no idea! Haha! Love you all.**

**xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. MY WORK IS BEST VIEWED AT 1/2 PAGE!**


	18. Chapter 17: The Village People

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Seventeen: 1/5 of the Village People**

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I should've talked to Pam a lot sooner than I had. I know that now. It was a huge weight off my shoulders. A weight that had been accumulating since November 28th, 2010. Thankfully, I finally made the right decision and met up at the Summers residence with Pam and Conner to face the mighty Patriarch, Dom. We talked, we cried, we laughed, you name it. The air was cleared. That is... until I quit both of my jobs and asked if Conner could stay there in the same breath.

Let me explain. My latest goal was to wipe James complete from my slate. That meant no more cashiering, no more randomly going to lacrosse games, no more working at Dom's garage, and no more house full of memories. I threw this on them pretty suddenly and surprisingly they were perfectly okay with it. Pam even hugged me, said it was about time that I let it all go. She then did so much as to apologize for all the things she said over the phone. I told her not to. Her words were that huge push I needed.

Okay, I need to progress this story so I'm not going to overanalyze my huge breakthrough... yet. All in due time. Due time my children. First, I had to get out of Scott's house. Even though I was aiming to search for a new place to live I couldn't bum it with the McCall's forever. So that meant that I was going to have to fix up the remains of my house to a point where it was 'livable' again. And that meant I was going to have to employ some underage labour.

I was standing in front of the skeletal structure of my house as Brooke Summers. Next to me was Conner, grimacing. I'm sure construction and reconstruction was not on his Top 10 List of things he wanted to do while in Beacon Hills, I didn't care. He was still my charge for the next few weeks. So I saddled him with a toolbox and a tool belt and put him to work. I told him that I just want to get my bedroom to be enclosed, at least. And get the roof back on its supports.

I had to make it livable in any way shape or form. I transferred most of my savings into my checking account so when the guys from the lumber mill got there with the support beams I could just write them a check. I know I could've written a check for the savings account but that checkbook got lost in the fire. Yeah. Go figure. Paper; in a fire. Imagine that getting burned up.

Anyways, will a broom in tow I marched up to my front door and attempted to open it. Damn door wouldn't offer me the pleasure. Apparently my touch is so repulsive the door just conked out. Fell over and was out for the count. Sounds about right. I sighed and looked at the remnants of my house. Then I looked to Conner, who was still frowning at me like it was his job.

"Come on," I encouraged, motioning for him to come forward, "let's get started."

He groaned and threw a mini-tantrum, "Fine." He spat out, approaching me slowly.

I gave him a cheery smile, grabbed hold of his elbow, and led him towards our latest project. And, yes, I was holding onto him so he couldn't run away. Also so I wouldn't fall over. Watching all of my worldly possessions blow across my visual horizon in the form of ash was moderately heartbreaking. All of James' antique books? Gone. Absolutely and positively gone. The bookshelves had caved in, the couch was still there, but the tires that held up the coffee table had melted and ruined the laminate flooring underneath it that I put down years ago. I love my hard work being completely shit on by the universe.

Without really realizing it, I was crying. My tears fell slowly. They left my cheeks and joined the remains of everything around us. The ashes stuck together and formed almost an adhesive. It was quite strange. Not that I really cared. I kicked the clumps of ash and wiped away my tears. Conner's arm was wrapped around my shoulders in a gesture of comfort. Good ol' Conner, worrying about someone three years his senior and treating her like she's five.

But, sometimes, that's just what you need. You need someone to think you're completely vulnerable and need protecting. That's when you find out who really cares about you. People who are determined to save you from your worst fears when confronting them proves to be too damn difficult.

My greatest fear at that point was losing all inclination that James ever existed. Which conflicted with my latest goal of getting the hell out of the one place I could always remember him, always feel him. I couldn't have that. I punched the wall connected to my room. Completely set on releasing my pent up feelings with anger. The force of my fist almost forced the wall to topple over. And it made a nice sized hole. Lucky me.

"Hey, hey, hey!" Conner protested with a hint of a laugh underneath his objections, "No forcing this place to come crumbling down!"

I turned and looked at him sarcastically, "Yeah, what's to crumble?" I asked, pointing to the sky, "They took whatever was left of my roof away! All I have are the six… no, seven… no, wait, eight walls that are barely left! Now, stop chastising me and let's get to work!"

For the next six hours, Conner and I worked diligently to get the support beams in place. We used some to reinforce the flimsy walls, the rest we used across where my ceiling used to be. We also cleared out the largest bits of debris, placing them on the curb in case someone wanted to use them for whatever reason scorched wood could be used for! Honestly, it wasn't extremely inconceivable. People in Beacon Hills are pretty weird, if you haven't noticed.

Eventually we'd get my house prepped and ready for another roof for whoever wanted to buy it after I sold it. We waltzed across the beams and worked on nailing down some tarp. Lucky for me, it hadn't rained since the fire (not counting the fireman dousing it). My first bit of luck in a long while.

We hugged when everything was done and used some water bottles to clean off the bits of charcoal that got smudged on our face. But, Conner being Conner, he just uncapped his bottle and poured the contents all over his head. He probably did this to get me to laugh; neglecting the fact that it was October in Beacon Hills. Beacon Hills wasn't Fleursville, that's for damn sure.

On my couch we sat and appreciated our work. It was pitch black outside and I had no idea what time it was. I just felt that it was about time to head back to the McCall's. See if Stiles made any progress on the Jedi training and the lot.

I was about to explain this to Conner when something literally forced me to stop. All around us I could hear this deep growl. It was loud and it resonated through me, body and soul. I felt my werewolf senses responding, felt the more lupin characteristics starting to take hold. Not only did I have to get out of there so Conner wouldn't see, I had to get to whoever had howled to the almost full moon.

"Whoa!" Conner exclaimed, "That's one bad ass sounding wolf!" He laughed.

My eyes grew wide as I turned to look at him, "What makes you think it's a wolf? Wolves haven't been 'round these parts for years."

He returned my surprised expression with a sarcastic one, "I worked at a wolf reserve, remember? I'd know a wolf howl if I heard one. No doubt about it."

The part about working at the wolf reserve was true. And yes, I forgot. Sue me.

"I'm sorry, I guess you're right. And now I have to go."

That's all I managed to get out before I was out of the house and speeding through the woods. Dodging trees like I had been able to run that fast for years. And, for whatever reason, I knew the exact direction the growl came from and nothing was stopping me from getting there. Another odd thing was that the closer I got, the less 'wolf' I felt. My claws turned back to the nubs I called fingernails, my fangs returned to regular old canines, and I hope that my eyes lost that luminous quality that suggested that I wasn't your average little lady.

Eventually I was able to spot road in front of me through the trees. I exited the woods to find… of course. Stiles and the two werewolves! I rolled my eyes and jogged over to them. Derek didn't look too happy with Scott, not that he ever truly looked 'happy'. Something I would eventually try extremely hard to rectify. Eventually.

Scott and Stiles removed their gaze from Derek to settle on me as I slid across the hood of Derek's car and landed right beside him. He glared at me and took a brief moment to examine his ride. Boy sure did love his car.

Now, the boys on the other hand were not glaring at me, far from it. Both were wide eyed and clearly confused by my presence, 'What was Brooke doing here?'

"Brooke?" Scott asked, "What are you doing here?"

I shrugged, "Someone howled, I followed it."

Stiles quirked a brow and asked, "Why?"

My eyes rolled of their own accord, "Because if I hadn't I would've shifted in front of my former brother-in-law and that's something I don't have the energy to explain to him right now." I said, my words thoroughly saturated with snide sarcasm.

"Oh." Scott said, his mouth forming the shape he just muttered, "But… I didn't call for you, I called for the Alpha."

Before I could object to how stupid that was, Derek butted in, "You didn't _just_ call the Alpha. You called everyone in your pack. How about before you decide to be an _idiot_, next time you talk to me first. Sound like a plan?" He practically snarled.

I brought my fist back and punched him in the shoulder. Only I was allowed to talk to Scott like that. Then something he said stuck out in my mind. I looked straight into the eyes that seemed to be attempting to murder me, "What's this about a pack?" I asked only to receive the same wide eyed expressions from the two boys.

"You didn't tell her about pack mentality?!" Scott near well yelled. To that, Derek didn't even respond, "You should be helping Brooke out just as much as you're helping me!"

Still, Derek didn't respond. I punched him in the shoulder again, "You're a jerk." I muttered. He shrugged as a response, "And you're proud of it, aren'tcha, grumpy?" Another shrug. I put my hands on my hips and delivered a fake smile, "God. You're so fluent. You should teach a master class of _shrug_!" And, instead of shrugging, Derek chuckled and cracked something that could've been considered a smile. At least… for him it was a smile.

"Wait, what?!" Stiles exclaimed, "I've been trying to make him laugh for _weeks_! And you just-"

"GUYS!" Scott suddenly yelled, successfully silencing us, "None of that is important right now! Right now, a murdering _psycho_ is on his way here! So you all can stop bickering!"

I'll admit, witnessing Scott and that assertion was really relieving. If he remained a pushover for the rest of his life some jack ass was going to walk all over him and steal his money. Though, I didn't mention any of this at the time. No. Scott had yelled at me so that incited and sassy response from me, "Don't get your panties in a bunch. I don't smell any uterine lining lying around." I explained a bit more nonchalantly than I should've.

"… … What?!" Stiles yelled loud enough for it to hurt my eardrums.

I stuck my finger in my ear and jostled it around a bit, trying to make sure I hadn't gone deaf. I barely heard Derek say, "His scent varies from wolf to wolf."

Stiles still looked confused, "And he smells like 'uterine lining' to you? What the hell is that anyway?!"

It took everything I had not to smack my forehead, "It's that substance that leaks from a ladies crotch every 28 days." I informed with an abundance of sarcasm. Those boys really revived my need for snide comments.

"Oh…" Stiles returned, "… ew."

I smirked, "You're telling me."

Now, this could've continued for a while after that. But it didn't. The sound of someone choking distracted all of us. The boys looked behind them and I looked to my right. Finding nothing out of the ordinary, we turned back towards Derek to inquire as to what was causing that sound. Upon facing him we realized that _he_ was causing it. He was lifted off the ground, blood spurted from his lips…

And an animalistic hand stuck out from his abdomen.

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**Author's Note: Sorry for the delay, and the shortness of the chapter! Just got my computer back the other week and it was hard adjusting! I was so used to tapping away at my iPad that the full keyboard scared me some! Next Chapter: Defensive Brooke! Hope you enjoyed! xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. My stories are BEST VIEWED at 1/2 page!**


	19. Chapter 18: Grand Theft Camero

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Eighteen: Grand Theft Camero**

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Like the flip of a switch, I was suddenly "going wolf". My joints all relocated themselves with little to no pain and in little to no time at all. I bared my fangs at the Alpha, whose hand was still in Derek's gut. The scent wafting into my nose wasn't there before. I don't know how he snuck up on me. Perhaps he disguised it. Remained human only until he was close enough to cause crippling damage.

My animal brain did not think of any of this at the time. All I was thinking was: _kill_. I wanted to rip the Alpha's head off right then and there. Before I really knew what I was doing, I was attempting just that. He threw Derek's lifeless body against the school and readied himself for me as I barreled at him.

I tackled the monster to the ground, snarling at him as I raked my claws over every inch of dark flesh I could get my hands on. Blood sprayed over my hands and fingers. Some of it even got on my face. I was probably a real sight to see. But I honestly couldn't stop myself not matter how hard I tried. I was no match for him!

Still I scratched and I clawed. That is until the Alpha kicked me off of him and I came into contact with the corner of Stiles' jeep. I landed on all fours and growled at the thing that bit me all those nights ago. He returned it with his own, causing me to lunge at him. I clung to him, digging my claws into his shoulders so he couldn't throw me as he thrashed about.

I pulled myself towards him so I could sink my teeth into the back of his neck. There was some sort of euphoria pulsing through me as my canines broke skin. A euphoria that quickly turned into an insatiable blood lust. He snarled as I attempted to rip out his spinal cord. His threatening tone didn't sway me. Blood spurted out onto my face but I didn't care. If anything the combination of the two made me want to bite down harder. So that's just what I did. I bit down until I felt the hard resistance of his spine, then I continued. Derek was no longer at his mercy so I assume that's not why I wouldn't stop. I think the fact that he _had_ hurt him was enough to make me want to take his life. Not that I didn't want to do that anyway.

Finally fed up with me, the Alpha grabbed me by my lengthy hair and yanked me away from his flesh. With my mouth and chin covered in blood I continued to snarl. He wasn't affected by it. He ripped me off him and threw me over to where Derek laid bloody. My back hit the wall full force before I landed on the ground a few feet away from the man who so valiantly took a hand to the intestines.

Feeling a bit calmer, I looked around to find us completely alone. Stiles and Scott had fled to who-knew-where and the Alpha was out of sight as well. I know that I should've cared more about the status of the boys, but I just didn't. It felt weird. Like they didn't matter. Only Derek mattered.

I rolled him over to see how much pain he was in. His eyes told me nothing. They looked as if they weren't ever going tell anyone anything ever again. They were glazed over and he didn't even blink. For all intents and purposes, Derek looked dead. Yet something deep inside me told me that that wasn't true. But if I didn't act soon then perhaps it _would no longer be false_.

I had to do something, right then, right there. I lifted his arm and pulled him to standing (kinda). I wrapped his arm around my shoulders and hefted him towards his car. Lucky for me, the backdoor was open for whatever reason. Then, as gently as I could, I threw him into the backseat and molested his waist to get his keys.

Having found them I crawled into the driver's seat, hooking my foot onto the door and yanking it shut behind me. Without another thought I jammed the keys into the ignition and peeled out of there. I angled the rear view mirror towards Derek so I could watch him as I drove. He was still unresponsive. Beneath the roaring sound of the engine I heard a faint heartbeat. Scientific proof that he was still in that thick stubborn skull of his.

As I sped off down the road I had to think of someplace to take him. His house was no good. Hunters knew where he lived and I couldn't guarantee that I'd be able to protect him without exposing myself. Scott's house would've been the no-brainer if it weren't for the fact that I couldn't throw a miraculously healed, potential murder suspect, onto Momma McCall. That would open a whole 'nother can of worms that I had no business in opening. That was all on Scott and several months down the road.

The only logical choice for our hideaway would have to be my slightly improved ramshackled hut.

'_Oh Lordie, take me now._' I prayed silently as I pushed 80 in attempts to get home.

When I pulled up to my house I realized that I was an idiot. I couldn't exactly have Derek's beautiful sore thumb of a Camero in my driveway. I pounded my head against the steering wheel and drove down the road until I got to the entrance of the reserve. I pulled the car in a ways and dreaded what I'd have to do next: carry Mr. Beefcake himself half a mile through the woods.

So I mustered all of my werewolf strength and yanked Derek out of the car. I resumed the previous position of his arm over my shoulders and through the woods we trekked. Granted it wasn't quite as far away as I made it sound, Derek was still quite heavy. But it's the only choice I had. No one would think that we'd be in a house that practically burned to the grou-… … … nevermind.

I carefully tiptoed through the broken porcelain (my bathroom was completely destroyed so we could only frame the walls, nothing more) that was once my bathtub and kicked the door to my bedroom open. Then I gently laid Derek out onto my bed. He winced as his back connected with the mattress. Other than that he gave me no obvious sign that he was even alive. The jerk.

Quickly I stripped him of his jacket and his bloodied shirt. They both ended up being ripped off of him because I didn't want to move him. And that's where my brain went blank. The sight of the gaping hole in his abdomen caused all of the gears to stop turning. Meaning the only thing I could think to do was… freak the fuck out.

"Oh my God." I murmured into the hands I tented over my mouth, "Ohhhh my God. Soooo much blood. He's bleeding everywhere. And I'm pretty sure I can see the sheets _through_ him." I gagged at that last realization.

Though I wasn't technically talking to anyone in particular, thank God Derek responded. He only groaned but that was enough. More than enough. My brain turned back on and I remembered what I had to do.

Let's just say I was mentally smacking myself, repeatedly, "I'm a freaking _idiot_!" I yelled before running to what was left of my closet and sifting through the remains. Hoping there was something that could help me soak up the blood.

I was able to find some towels that had only been burned enough to be the size of hand towels. I turned a bit too quickly and nearly tripped over my own two feet. Actually, I did stumble, forcing me to land on Derek and pressed a towel a little too roughly into him. His body started to convulse from the pain and a cold sweat broke out all over his greying skin.

His breath was fast pace and his heart rate was erratic. And not to mention that he looked awful. His face was attempting to cave in on itself due to the agony of it all. I've never seen his face so emotional and, honestly, I preferred the stoic Derek just then. Never showing anything other than sarcastic, distrust, and overall unpleasantness. Not really knowing what else to do since I assumed ibuprofen would do absolutely nothing even if I had any, I started to run the tips of my fingers up and down his arm.

Surprisingly… it seemed to soothe him. His left hand reached over and grabbed mine, ceasing the ministrations, and he began to stir. His eyes, glowing blue, peered at me through barely open eyelids.

"Hey." I muttered, "You okay?"

Peering quickly turned to glaring, as any other gaze did, "Do I _look_ okay?" He barked weakly.

An embarrassed blush bloomed across my tired face, "No… I guess not…" I muttered, pulling my hand out from underneath his and settling it in my lap.

As soon as my touch left him he was cringing in pain again, "_Hnnngh_!" He groaned.

"Wha-what can I do?" I asked, panic shadowing my concerned words.

With an intense effort, he beckoned me towards him with the arm crossed over his middle, "… here…" He managed to say.

That did nothing for me. I had no idea what 'hear' meant! Hear what! Unless he meant 'here'… and then I _still _didn't have a clue as to what I should do! I was about to ask him to reiterate when Derek lifted his left arm so it extended out straight from his shoulder. It bounced upon falling and with his head he beckoned me towards it.

Wow. Okay. Um, sure. I guess I could do that. I swallowed past a nervous lump and made my way to the other side of the bed. I crawled in next to Derek and hesitantly placed my arm against his shoulder. I repeat, wow. We were, essentially cuddling. He was dying and he wanted to cuddle? Didn't sound like Derek to me but I didn't object. I just assumed he was hallucinating or something. He even lifted his forearm to wrap across my chest, making my position very awkward. I turned to my side, facing him.

And it was like that's exactly what he wanted me to do. He sighed pleasantly and held my close. I exhaled a breath I hadn't known I had been holding after realizing that he was close to falling asleep. Then I realized that my arm was pinned to my side by my own nerves. Carefully I bent my arm and placed my callused hand just underneath his left pec. And, honestly, I expected him to shy away from the touch where he actually… he… he looked as if he enjoyed it.

His face no longer looked to be in pain. I wanted to overanalyze it, I really did. But, instead, I inhaled Derek's addicting scent, closed my eyes, and happily drifted off to sleep. I didn't even care that there was a consistent cold breeze throughout the night. There was someone I was pressed against that kept me warm despite the chilly October air and the lack of insulation in the walls around us.

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**Author's Note: Does uploading two chapters in one day make up for both of them being super short (I actually just wrote Chapter 18 in less than an hour and a half. Hope that doesn't mean it's sucky)? I originally wanted these two to all be one chapter but I love suspense. Sorry guys :p I didn't leave you hanging for long, right? Reviews are love. Brooke's first full moon in the next two chapters! AND IT'S GOING TO GET HAWT IN HERE. GET PUMPED! xoxo, Momma Love**

**P.S. MY STORIES ARE BEST VIEWED AT 1/2 PAGE!**

**P.S.S. Who do you think Brooke's female best friend will be? Allison, Erica, or Lydia? Or even Melissa! Food for thought! Or, rather, FIC PROGRESSION FOR THOUGHT!**


	20. Chapter 19: In Heat

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Nineteen: Brooke - The Bitch In Heat**

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The next morning was the first time I had awaken normally in weeks. Sunlight streamed in through the hole that used to be my window and I could even hear a bird chirping with the rising ball of gas. I stretched out my back and yawned proudly. Though I must have fallen asleep on something because there _was_ something cradling my neck. A hand was draped across my cleavage, even. I looked to my right to find… oh yeah. Derek.

He was staring at the colourful morning sky above us through the tarp, his free arm bent and his hand resting behind his head. Honestly, if I ever had a one-night-stand in my entire life I'm pretty sure I'd feel about the exact same. Lying next to, what felt like, a complete stranger. No words spoken. He was even half naked to top it all off. Joy.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and tried to figure out how to begin some sort of conversation so we weren't just lying there awkwardly. I gave him a once over to find that the gaping hole in his gut? Yeah. Gone. Even with our magnificent healing capabilities that shouldn't have been possible. What the hell?! A blow _through_ the gut heals overnight but the damn burn to my shoulder… was also gone? Really? Really universe? What the hell! I had been waiting for_ days _for that fucker to heal! Now it's gone in the blink of an eye, taking my tattoo with it?! FUCK YOU.

Frustrated on some level, many levels, completely antsy on the rest, I sat up. I ruffled my recently cut hair and shook my head back and forth. My hair fell lifelessly onto my shoulders despite my attempts to do something, if anything, to it. I turned back to Derek who still hasn't looking anywhere but up. Well, great. What a wonderful afterglow. Not even afterglow! I don't know what to call that night. Just some half-spooning, I guess.

I let out a sigh and moved to stand. I was still really uneasy and had no idea why. My shoulder had healed, Derek had healed, I should've been grateful. I paced the width of my room, kicking debris out of my way, trying to calm down. Several times I fought the urge to start striping all of the progress Conner and I had done to my house. Punching holes, you know.

"Why am I so wired?!" I seethed to myself, clenching my teeth and clutching the back of my head whilst it was tilted towards the sky.

A sound of disbelief came from Derek. I turned to glare at him viciously. I was not in the mood for his crap. But, turns out he had some insight into my condition. "You haven't shifted back, yet." He said cryptically.

My eyes widened, "What do you mean by 'shifted back'?"

He sat up and rolled his eyes, "You're still in your werewolf form."

I looked down at my limbs. I noticed the slight bulge in my elbow and wrist joint. Goddamn. Thought it would've just reverted back automatically after a good night's sleep. I tried to 'turn-it-off' so to speak which proved to be either impossible or stupid. Possibly both. I was met full-on with an excruciating pain. I tried to screamed but found that I couldn't. I couldn't even breathe all that well. I wrapped my arms around my midsection and backed into the remnants of my doorframe. The pain wouldn't leave me as I tried to return to my normal self so I stopped. I couldn't do it. I had to dig my spine into the corner of the wood just to distract me from it all.

All the while Derek didn't move from his spot on the bed. Typical. He just waited for me to stop breathing like a chain smoker. And the indifferent look on his face was really pissing me off, "Got somethin' to say? Spit it out, shit dick." I growled, pushing myself to standing and leaning against the doorframe.

"You can't stay like that forever." He said, referring to me still being a wolf.

I glowered at him, "Watch me."

His eyes squinted ever-so slightly, another tell of his when he didn't want to come across as an angry twat. He pushed himself down the bed and let his legs hang over the edge. I was met with his usual silence and a crook of his finger, motioning me towards him. Once I had taken a few steps hesitant steps in his direction he yanked me down beside him. I called him something that rhymed with 'wittle truck' at his harsh movements. I still hadn't completely recovered from the whole bones shoving themselves out of their sockets.

We sat silently and I gave the transformation another go. God it felt like my skull was trying to split in two. I clutched at my scalp and hunched over my knees, struggling to audit my intense pain. It was as if that if I didn't scream, then I'd burst. A startling realization. I found no comfort in the froth started to form through my teeth, teeth that seemed to be set in cement.

Then Derek, the angel, wrapped an arm around me, "You have to try harder." He said in the closest thing to 'soothing' he could've managed.

I wanted to retort back, I just couldn't. Any attempt to reset my skeletal structure was too excruciating to even consider. I don't know what happened next. Derek's mouth was moving but I couldn't hear a damn thing. Then he was suddenly standing in front of me. He yanked me up so I was kneeling on the bed, making me stare right into his eyes. His faint green eyes.

"Do it." He commanded, "Wrap your arms around me and shift."

With my hearing recovered, I guffawed, "Are you serious? This hurts like a fucking bitch. I want to see you try dislocating all of your joints and then forcing them back."

His eyes darkened, he moved my arms to wrap around his neck, his face demanding that I obey him, "Try again."

"Your, no wait, _my_, funeral." I retorted. He looked at me sarcastically, waiting for me to just do the deed and get it over with, "Fine. But we're going to experience what normal people call a _hug_. So don't, like, die of fright or anything." I warned, a nervousness dripping into my tone. I inhaled and exhaled several times, prepping myself. It wasn't going to be easy. Not that anyone ever said it would.

So I clung to Derek, his bare chest to my clothed one, and I forced the transformation. It still felt like I was dying from the inside out but the pain had diminished some. And at the time I had no idea why. Even the brooding Derek was holding onto me. Probably assuring that I wouldn't run away. Not that I was able to focus on that for long, or run for that matter. I was soon digging my nails into his back as my body physically got smaller. Unlike the other times I attempted the shift, I was able to scream. Which was all I really did. The bits of yelling came in bursts, mostly. As did the pain. Four or five of them. Bursts, that is. And with each wave I dug deeper. I felt Derek's blood coat my fingers and I watched my tears roll down his muscles. I was probably a right sight.

Eventually, the pain stopped. Each bone had been put back in its rightful place. All was right with the supernatural world. Thank God. The process alone left me sweating and panting against Derek, giving the unlucky passerby the impression that we had engaged in some sort of explicit act. Nah. Just werewolf shit. Much more exciting.

Carefully I removed myself from him. Practically prying my arms off of him due to the blood, sweat, and tears. Literally. I sat back on my feet and tried to wrap my head around everything that had just happened in the past ten minutes. I learned that Derek's wound had miraculously healed, but not how and more miraculously than usual, and that clinging to him for dear life somehow blocked some of the pain. And by the half-guilty look on his face he knew what was going on.

"Okay. Spill." I gasped, still in a good bit of pain.

His eyes looked everywhere but towards me, "Spill what."

I rolled my eyes, "For one that huge ass gaping hole in your gullet is mysteriously gone." I said, motioning to his abs. He shrugged. Wow, not this time pal, "Sorry if I don't believe that you're a freaking moron. You know what's going on. You always know. You're Derek Hale, werewolf expert. And we all agreed that we're not keeping secrets from each other-"

"You two agreed to that, I said nothing-"

"Shut the fuck up." I growled, glaring at him with my head cast slightly downward. I wasn't in the mood. "What's happening _right now_ has to do with me. You have no right to keep me out of the loop."

Derek sighed but seemed to be complacent. He'd honestly didn't look like he wanted to keep this from me, "Fine. But you're not going to like it." He stated.

"You assume I've liked this whole ordeal so far?" I asked sarcastically.

He returned my look, "No." He paused to sit down next to me, "Now… don't freak out."

I nodded, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, I nudged him playfully, "Come on, I'm a big girl, I can handle it."

He sighed, "… … I'm your mate-"

"WHOA NO HEY NO NO HEY. WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME WHILE I WAS SLEEPING?!" I yelled, throwing myself off of the mattress and onto a bed of splinters. Ow. Not my smartest idea.

Derek gave me an exasperated look, "What happened to not freaking out?"

"WHAT HAPPENED TO IT'S NOT SEX WITHOUT CONSENT?!" I returned, still yelling.

"We haven't had sex you idiot. We're mates we just haven't mated yet." He finished.

Okay, I stopped freaking out considerably. I slowly returned to my spot next to him, "Soooo… we're 'true' mates, then?" He nodded, "You told me that your gal of choice smelled like-"

"She smells like you. Exactly." He interrupted.

My eyes widened a bit. I smelled hot! "Then… you lied when you said you had no clue who it was."

He shrugged, "Had to be sure."

I arched a brow, "How are you 'sure'?"

"Well…" He started, "The fact that just by touching diminishes pain and increases the healing process considerably. That's a pretty good indicator. Mates bring out the best in each other. Maximize potential."

I nodded and thought of something witty to counter with only to be dawned with a realization. Mate… full moon… surge in strength? "If you try _anything_ tonight I will cut off your balls faster than you can blink." I threatened with an accusatory finger.

He chuckled a bit, "Don't worry. It's not much use if we're both Betas."

"Good." I summated, "Keep thinking those thoughts."

Now if only I could stop the thoughts tumbling around in my head. Since the recognition that we were each other's mate I had been thoroughly resisting jumping his bones right then. Another thing I had absolutely no privy to. Add that to the list. Being turned on with the flick of a freaking switch. I just… gah. He was just sitting there, all shirtless and beautiful, with his own personal aphrodisiac wafting off of his pale skin. Maybe if I just… that'd be alright, right?

Besides… I _had_ been panting earlier. What would a bit more harm? I chuckled internally at the notion and took one huge breath in. There was a heavy scent in the air containing a bit of his, a bit of mine, and a bit of something else. It was thick and almost sultry, musty and fiery. Like the burning embers of a dying fire. Well maybe it smelled like a dying fire but my loins were a burnin'.

Lord, I couldn't help myself. I grabbed the back of Derek's neck and pulled him into me. My lips crashed against his feverishly. First, I was met with hesitation/resistance. But he was soon playing my game. He caught my lower lip in his several times I swung my leg around so I was straddling him while I worked over his mouth. I traded the back of his neck for the sides. My thumbs rubbed across his stubble as his thumbed at the waist of my jeans.

We nipped and bit at each other when I felt his hands leave my waist. That's when my shirt suddenly ripped in half from the back. I welcomed the prickly cold air that greeted my almost bare skin. I tore the remains of the cloth from me, separating us briefly. Mr. Tall, Dark, and Brooding didn't seem to like that. The second I was clear he dug his nails into my side and yanked me back. He kissed the underside of my jaw tenderly. I ran my fingers through his hair and fisted it, putting his lips back in my path.

I tongued his lower lips and dove into him. And by dove I mean I literally dove. I pushed him back down onto the bed and planted my palms on his nicely toned pecs. He smirked up at me before rolling us over. First, he ripped my bra right in half. With his teeth. And, with that, I was done for. One of my only actual bras had been ruined. Not that I cared. He was busy making his way towards my neck and did that awfully seductive thing that he did. He pressed his thumb into my pulse and he started to suck on the cord of my neck. I unconsciously arched up into him and moaned, hopefully clinging to his back.

My nails started raking across his skin and I thought he was going to snarl or something. But dear God I swear that he… he practically purred. Underneath it all, Derek was just a kitten. A kitten that was starting to move his hips against mine. Forgive me Lord for I have sinned and I liked it! Granted I wasn't actually thinking any of this during. My mind was sort of a mix of blank and red.

That's when I felt something sharp dig into my neck and I lost it. He was biting me. His teeth had sunk into my throat and _I liked it_. I was even coming undone underneath him. Underneath Derek. Dear God I'm doomed. My hips started moving in synch with his. The friction of our jeans was pleasantly erotic. It hurt just the right amount. Not only that I was moaning like a well sated whore. My nails turned to claws and continued to drag themselves over his well-toned back, drawing blood this time.

I felt his jaw loosen and his teeth leave me so I decided to turn the tables. I rolled him back over and kept him at a distance. I sat up on his hips and traced my fingers between his pecs and down to his navel. God he was smooth. He shivered underneath me. I smirked, good boy. That's when I brought back out the claws. I purposely pierced his chest with them, only slightly, and raked them straight down to his hips.

Wow. Didn't know hips could buck that hard. Derek sure did like it rough. He was panting like he had just run a marathon. With a playful smirk I bent over and planted several light kisses to his lips, his jawline, his stubble, and I noticed his eyes. The luminous blue that I've grown to love. I even noticed a bead of my blood trickle from the corner of his mouth. Weren't we a pair.

Thinking that I pressed my lips fully against his and continued to tease him. Oh how I love to tease Derek. To this day. Watching that scowl deepen and then eventually fade away was the highlight of my day. But he wasn't frowning then. No he was not. I continued to grind against him when his tongue found his way into my mouth. Our mouths battled, he'd nip, I'd lick, he'd bite, I'd suck, the whole deal. Honestly, if I didn't know any better, I'd think that I'd done this before. And I sure as hell hadn't.

Derek's nails back in my side drove me mad. I let out a snarl from the contact, realizing that my fangs had joined the party. Time to return the favour, I suppose. I pressed my lips against his pulse, kissing it and tonguing it for a while before I opened my mouth wide and bit down, careful to avoid the jugular and the other arteries. Derek let out a low growl and I moaned, even as his warm blood pooled in my mouth. Maybe that's _why_ I moaned. God I must've sounded like I was in heat.

He rolled us over one more time, trailing kisses down towards my hips… when my phone rang, "Are you _shitting_ me?!" I seethed. I was not in the mood for talking. I was in the mood for doing. And talking would've interrupted the whole _doing_ part. But I always took my calls if I could. I reached into my back pocket and looked at the caller ID. Stiles. Of course, the little shit. I dragged the button across the screen into the 'answer' position, put it to my ear, and barked, "_WHAT_."

"Uh…" Stiles muttered, clearly not expecting my excessive amounts of venom, "I'm just, uh, checking up on you. Scott's been acting a little crazy because of the full moon and I wanted to make sure you weren't sucking the blood out of a sheep, or a cow, or anything."

I sighed, "I'm fine. Thanks for checking in." I finished, hitting the 'end' button and throwing my phone across the room. I pressed my palms into my eyes, "I'm going to kill that kid one day, I swear."

Derek rolled off of me, probably feeling the sudden 'limpness', so to speak, that I felt, "Get in line."

I snorted a bit, "Derek made a funny. The world's ending." He chuckled a bit too, "Hey, when you get the chance you should check up on Scott. Apparently the full moon's making him koo-koo for Cocoa Puffs."

"He's not the only one." Derek muttered cryptically, standing and fetching his leather jacket.

I turned onto my side and stared at him, "What do you mean?"

He quirked a brow at me and motioned to my current state. Topless.

"SHIT!" I cursed, covering up my breasts by crossing my arms, "Are you saying that the full moon made me jump you? It's not even noon yet!"

He shrugged, "It's not a science."

And with that last cryptic response, Derek was gone. No kiss, no nothing. Of course not. He's Derek, dark and brooding. Drops the bombshell of the century with the whole mate business then bolts. You'd think I was pregnant. And that we were sixteen. Not 19 and 24 respectively. Whatever. Just the universe taking another deuce on my life. Like I hadn't had enough of those to last a lifetime.

* * *

**Author's Note: I think I need to take a cold shower...**


	21. Chapter 20: The Second Coming

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Twenty: The Second Coming**

* * *

The next twelve hours weren't so pretty. Lots of trips into the woods. Tons of climbing. Then a lot of returning to the house with bumps, bruises, scratches, and bad thoughts of eating bunnies. If it killed me I'd keep my vegetarian diet. Being a werewolf would not change _everything_ about me. That much I could be certain off.

Other than that I looked at houses, called Scott, practiced scratching the back of my ears with my feet, and similar junk like that. From calling Scott I learned that he's pissed at me for leaving them at the mercy of the Alpha locked in the school. I also learned that apparently the guy I almost took to bed a few hours prior was accused of keeping five teenagers hostage and murdering a janitor. I really had a bad taste in men. Or at least the universe had a bad taste in men for me… oh whatever. I'm done trying to analyze that shit.

At the end of the day I ended up back at my house with a hammer and saw. I was going to put my eternal restlessness to good use. I had ordered more wood and I continued the foundation for the eventual roof I'd get back on it. Hadn't made it to the drywall point. I'd get there some day. So, until then, I'd work my butt off. Not that that's anything new. Been doing that for as long as I can remember.

I didn't have Conner this time around so by nightfall I was pretty wiped out. I didn't even have the energy to make it back to Melissa's house. Which meant I wasn't going to be getting an intact shirt or bra for a while. I had to use my itty bitty sowing kit to partially mend the damage that Derek had done. My face was getting hot from just the memory of us rolling around on my charred covers. Stupid… werewolf… emotions… thing…

'_Just go to sleep you overly hormonal creature_.' I thought to myself before crawling underneath my sheets and drifting off to… Sexy Dreamland. Really? Why does my life suck?

Of course it would be a sex dream. I was in my house, fully intact, before the fire, and I was laid out on silk sheets in the only matching set of underwear I owned. It was red, lacy, and irrevocably sexy and I hadn't seen them for years. In fact… now that I thought about it I recognized that night with an astounding clarity. It was the first night I had sex ever… with James. Oh Brooke, you were making so much progress. Now you're dreaming about one of the most intimate moments you shared with your then boyfriend?

"Hey."

I looked up to the bathroom doorway and was greeted with one of the sexiest sights I had ever seen. _Thud. Thud. Thud. _'_Be still my beating heart_.' I told myself. Just because James was standing there all tanned and chiseled and steamy from a shower doesn't mean you get to act like a sixteen year old schoolgirl again. Still, even though I told myself this, that's just what I did. I brought my knees to my chest and backed all the way up against the wall behind me. To top it all off I was blushing like crazy.

James let out a laugh, "Oh, sweetheart." He cooed, crawling onto the bed and over to me, "If you don't want to-"

"No." I interrupted, staring at my thumbs all cracked and dirty from the motor oil I used day in and day out, "I-I want to. It's just… I'm scared."

He pulled my hands away from my face, "It's okay to be scared. But I've got you."

"Promise?" I whispered like the naïve child I was.

He lightly pressed his chapped lips against my forehead, "I promise I'll never let you go."

I smiled at him, trying to hide my nervousness, "And that you'll be with me forever?"

At first he looked as if he was going to laugh it off. But when I raised my pinky finger into the air he just looked at me, "You're impossible." He said, wrapping his little finger around mine, "But, yes. Forever."

And with that I signed away my virginity. James crawled onto me, put himself inside of me, loved me. I'll admit, it hurt. Not as bad as I thought it would. It probably helped that the man I was giving myself away to loved me truly. I wouldn't know the difference, though. I hadn't had sex with anyone that wasn't James.

Once it was all over, it stopped being a memory and turned into a dream. James removed himself from me and looked into my eyes, "Brooke?"

With tears threatening to form, I choked out, "Yes?"

He brushed the back of his hand over my cheek, "You have to move on."

My eyes widened and I barely managed to say, "What?"

"You have to move on." He repeated, "It's been eleven months. You need to let me go."

At that tears freely cascaded down my cheeks, "But… but…"

He kissed me softly, "No, Brooke." He said once he had pushed away, "You cannot love the dead. Not the way you loved me. Not anymore… because you're alive. You still have a future ahead of you. You can't let the past keep you from reaching your potential."

"James…" I sobbed, "I don't want to lose you! Don't make me do this!"

He chuckled sadly, "You've already lost me. Hanging onto a memory won't bring me back. It'll only prolong your suffering"

"Please… please don't leave me." I continued to cry.

"Brooke…" He said, wiping away the tears with his thumb, "I'm not asking you to forget about me. I'm not asking you to forget everything we've been through. I'm asking you, as my best friend, my wife, and my lover, to live your life."

I looked up at him with intense purpose, "I don't want a life without you! I _never _wanted a life without you! You're the one who left, not me. You don't have to right… you can't just ask me to let you go… what if you're the only person to ever love me?!" I yelled.

"Dear," He started, holding my chin in his hand; "You know that that isn't true. It isn't even possible. You're a radiant girl, Brooke Winston. Men can't help but to fall in love with you. If you'll let them."

I wanted to say something, but couldn't. I was crying too hard.

He let out a sad sigh, "Brooke, look at me." Hesitantly, I did, "Go. Sell this house and leave all memory of me behind."

"Bu-"

"No. You have to do this. Fate dictated that we were not meant to be. I wish we had been, I wish I could've loved you for the rest of eternity. But I can't. That right is reserved for someone much more suited for you." He finished with a kiss to my forehead.

As his lips touched my skin a mental image of Derek flashed into my mind. I looked up at James in slight shock, "You think…?"

"I know." He corrected, "One day, he'll love you even more than I do."

And with that the dream dissipated. Not that there was much else to recall from the night… the second I woke up I wasn't in control of myself. I gazed up at the clouded full moon and I couldn't register another thought other than… I'm going to shift. And it's going to hurt. Fuck. Please, to all that is good and sacred in the world, don't let me eat bambi. Amen. And let my life carry on without me acting like Lana Del Rey in Dark Paradise. Amen.

* * *

**Author's Note: Sorry short chapter is short. But just a brief dream sequence to add more to my inevitable plot to take place during Season 3. Glad you guys liked Derek and Brooke's incursion last chapter. I quite enjoyed it as well! Sorry I'm talking like this... been on a bit of a _Sherlock_ kick, if you may. And I'm watching Sherlock Holmes (2009) right now. But as of right now I do not know what I'm going to do with the rest of Brooke until Season 2 so it might be awhile before I post something. Lots of rewatching _Teen Wolf_ for this grrl. Read and Review! xoxo, Momma Love**


	22. Chapter 21: Clumsy, Gangly, Needy, Me

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Twenty-One: Clumsy, Gangly, Needy, Me**

* * *

My first full moon is a complete blank to me. Nothing other than the fact that I woke up in the middle of the woods bare as a newborn babe with bark and sap coating my hands. Gross. No sign of blood, though, that wasn't my own. Guess I decided to claw the crap out of my arms. But that's not important. The next full moon would be much more intriguing. In due time my children, due time.

Over the course of the next few days I finished getting my house to a state where someone could live in it, put said house onto the market, got my truck back from the shop, and worked out my kinks with Scott. Turns out he wasn't really mad at me he was just mad at himself for losing Allison. Which was perfectly understandable, he loved her. I resumed my residence at the McCall house while keeping an eye out for Derek. Scott and I were his eyes and ears in town for the time being. Him being a fugitive and all.

Then, one day, Derek got some information about some people that had something to do with either the Hale house fire or the Alpha, or both. Meaning he'd be coming out of hiding temporarily. I just wish that he told us more before he ran off into the night. He just told us to call Stiles, take his car, and drive around like mad men. On any other day I would've given him hell for not recognizing that I was not of the male gender.

I got my chance to be a sassy bitch when Scott reached for the keys Derek was so kindly offering. So I quickly yanked them out of his hand before the inexperienced driver could get his paws on them. I was the only one who had driven his car before and I liked the Camaro to remain in one piece. We retrieved Stiles and then we did as we were told. I floored it and started driving down some country roads.

Not soon after that we were being chased by someone in one of those goddamn hamster cars. You know the ones I'm talking about. The people sized hamsters that breakdance then drive off in this weird box car? Sorry. I don't like those commercials and I don't remember the name of the car besides it was a KIA.

Anyways, back to being chased. I jerked the steering wheel left and right in attempts to get whoever was on our tail _off_ of it. Stiles, who was in the back seat without a seatbelt on, was being thrown around like a ragdoll. Scott kept looking back to make sure I didn't throw him through a window.

"Could you slow down? Just a little?" Scott asked sheepishly before I took a sharp right and got onto the highway.

I looked in the rearview mirror briefly, "If you want to this car to turn into an accordion, sure. I'll slow down. Oh, not to mention if you want Derek to flay you alive. That'd be a good cause to turn this beautiful contraption into a Cirque de Soleil sideshow!" Then, in contradiction to my words, no matter how sarcastic they were, I floored it. We were all pressed flat against our seats as I pushed 70 and put a good amount of distance between us and the lunatic behind us.

Stiles made an odd sound from the backseat, "I think I'm going to be sick…"

"If you want Derek to kill you, be my guest." I returned without taking my attention off of the 18-wheeler in front of us. I passed it, crossing the double yellow, Brooke you bad girl, and taking another sharp right. Hopefully putting even more distance between us.

No such luck on our part. They were hot on the trail. I had to resist driving through the woods because I was pretty sure the Camaro didn't have 4-Wheel Drive. As I took bend after bend I glanced into the rearview mirror. Caution, objects may be closer than they appear.

"Faster?" I questioned the dunderheads.

I'm assuming one of them turned and looked because one of them said, "Much faster."

Hesitant but willing, I took the car out of the first gear and threw it into second. It would be worse on Derek's engine but give me more control. That's when I literally floored it and managed to reach about 90 before I eased up on the gas so I didn't reach 100. I wasn't that desperate. Not yet.

We continued to speed down the same stretch of road, why the hell I picked that fucking winding road to try and out race a hamster car beats me. But it was too late to regret that decision. I turned down an almost dirt road and expected our pursuers to follow. Only, they didn't. They kept on the highway. Thank God. Stiles took that opportunity of me slowing down and not throwing him around to check the police radio.

"_All units: suspect is on foot heading into the iron works._"

I increased our speed and headed for Derek. Throwing Stiles back again, "Come on!" He whined.

I glared at him in the rearview mirror, "Shut your trap or so help me God I will come back there and throttle you."

That shut him up. Good. I needed to keep alert. Couldn't have someone shooting at us or anything. I pulled into the iron works and saw Derek crouched out behind a bulldozer. We pulled over a few feet in front of him and I threw Scott into the backseat. While the car was stilling coming to a stop I reached over and opened the passenger door.

"Get in!" I called. Derek cautiously looked up at someone, Chris Argent to be precise, who was shooting at him with a semi-automatic rifle before bolting to the open door. He hadn't even shut it before I was putting the pedal to the metal again. No offense to Derek's safety and all but Argent was still firing. Thank God for that bullet proof glass. You're welcome, Mr. Hale!

From the backseat Scott wasn't happy and had no trouble voicing it. "What part of _lying low_ don't you understand?!" He yelled.

Derek smacked something, probably the dash. "Dammit, I had him!"

"Who, the Alpha?" Stiles dumbly asked.

Man was Derek steamed. He didn't even give me the chance to get a witty retort in or anything! "_Yes_! He was right in front of me and the _freaking_ _police_ showed up!"

"Whoa, hey," Stiles interrupted, "they're just doing their jobs."

I side glanced Derek glaring at Stiles and chuckled, "Settle down, boys. You're both pretty."

Derek then glared at me; I glared back, picking up speed so Derek was forced against his seat. Take that, sunshine. He was still glaring at me too, "There shouldn't be _any_ job to do. But thanks to someone who decided to make me the most wanted fugitive in the_ entire_ _state_, every cop in the county is trying to hunt me down!"

"Can we seriously get past that? I made a dumb ass mistake, I get it!" Scott countered.

I let out a laugh, "You're saying that like you put the wrong fuel in his car. Or, like, gave his cat the wrong food and it crapped itself to death."

"Not a really good analogy there." Scott pointed out. Which was true.

"Oh, whatever. You know what I mean. You didn't have to say that _Derek_ did it. Why not say that Chris Argent did it? Then that lunatic wouldn't be so keen on hunting our kind to extinction!" I decided to bring up. That thought had occurred to me a few days prior. Scott could've pinned this on a multitude of people whose absence in Beacon Hills would make our lives considerably better!

"Alright!" Stiles interjected, "There're more important things going on right now!"

Figures the royal fool would be the wise one in that situation, "Whatever." I grumbled.

"Okay! How did you find him?" The hyperactive brat asked the brooding Derek.

And he, the trusting werewolf that he was, blew us off completely. He rolled his eyes and decided to be entirely invested in something just out the window. I put my left foot on the gas so I could kick Derek in the side with my right.

He glared at me, again, I glared back, again, "Don't you give me that look." I chastised, "The only way we're going to be able to defeat this raving psychopath is if we _work together_. This includes, and is not exclusive to, you sharing any and all information that you have!"

Scott seemed to agree with me, "Could you try to trust us for at least half a second?"

"Yeah." Stiles added, "All of us." Out of my peripherals I could see Derek giving Stiles his signature glare of 'I'm trying to murder you with my mind', "Or just them." He said, rectifying his previous statement, "I'll be back here."

Stiles retreated back into his seat and I rolled my eyes, "Feel all rough and tough because you can terrify sixteen year olds?"

Derek didn't seem pleased with my statement at all. He didn't comment on what I said, though his eyes said it all, but he did divulge the reason as to how he found the Alpha, "The last time I talked to my sister she was close to figuring something out; she found two things. The first was a guy named Harris."

"Our _Chemistry_ teacher?" Stiles exasperated, shooting back out between Derek and me.

I knew _of_ Harris. Scott complained about him enough. He just didn't seem like the type to aide and abed a lunatic. Now, _which_ lunatic he was helping was unknown to me at the time. Whether it was the batch of werewolf hunting nut jobs or the King Alpha nut job, I didn't care. I wanted them all gone. I did not like nuts nor did I like any job performed by the-… I'm not finishing that sentence.

"Why him?" Scott asked during my silent loathing of what my life had become in the past two months.

"I-I don't know yet." Derek barked, frustrated with himself.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up." I whispered low enough just so he could hear me. He side-glanced/glared at me, God, change it up a little! Yet he was clearly not in the mood for comfort of any kind. Well, I tried. One of these days I'm going to stop with the soothing words and just starting whacking him on the nose with a newspaper. Actually, I'll probably start that up tomorrow. See what writing does? It gives you some great ideas.

From the backseat, Scott brought me back to the conversation, "What's the second?" Meaning the second thing Derek's sister found out, I assumed. I don't know, I was out of the loop for a bit.

Derek dug into his jacket pocket and pulled out a folded up piece of paper and said, "Some kind of symbol."

I strained my neck to see what the symbol was without taking my eyes too far off the road and putting us all in a ditch. Looked like some weird ass… wolf. Of course. Everything connects back to werewolves and hunters.

In the rearview mirror I noticed Scott making a pained expression. "You okay back there?" I asked, not wanting him to upchuck all over everything. And especially not wanting to bury Scott 80 years early because a certain brooding smart ass would probably pummel him within an inch of his life if he vomited all over the upholstery.

"He knows the symbol. He's seen it before." Derek said. His observations skills far greater than my own. He jammed the paper in Scott's face, "Do you know what this is?"

Scott let out a laboured sigh, "I've seen it… on a necklace. Allison's necklace."

"Scott, I hate your taste in women." I groaned before shifting gear and picking up speed.

No one really talked for the rest of the drive. Derek was pissy, Scott was conflicted, I was still keeping an eye out for people that wanted to murder us, and Stiles nearly got his head bitten off several times for even trying to speak up. To which I punched Derek several times in the arm. This whole ordeal was stressful for all involved, they didn't need pole-up-his-butt Derek to make things worse. Speaking of Mr. Pole-Up-His-Butt, I had a few things I wanted to say to him. That meant goodbye to the kiddies!

Eventually I kicked Stiles out of the car some ways down the street from his house, and did the same to Scott. But when I came to a stop and shoved Scott out the door I continued to drive towards the woods. Much of a surprise to my only companion. I pulled up beside Derek's 'house' and got out of the car. And he followed me sluggishly, no matter how much he didn't want to.

I propped myself up against his car and glared at him. It was the first time I actually talked to him since my first full moon. Once he came out in front of me I punched him square in the face. Wow. That was impulsive. There wasn't really any thought in it at all. I just saw his face and hit it. I shook out my hand in pain. Derek sure did have a hard skeletal structure. And a thick skull.

His hand went to his nose, my fists main point of impact, and reset it. Oops, must've broken it. It made this gross cracking noise and a bit of blood fell freely. When that was taken care of I could tell he was resisting a nagging sensation to beat me senseless. His eyes were starting to glow and I could see his jaw dislocating and relocating to accommodate for his fangs.

"Don't you even _think_ about it, Coyote Ugly." I threatened while my werewolf features started to come through in response to his. "You deserved that and a lot more. And the worst part is, you know that you do."

He snarled slightly. "Why the hell did I deserve that?"

'_Really? Feigning ignorance? Forgive me for sincerely wanting to kick your ass_!' I thought to myself while saying something akin to, "Because you're the jackass that nearly fucked me the day of the full moon, didn't keep an eye on me _during_ said full moon, and you've made your presence less than scarce since then! Not to mention you threw that whole _mate_ deal on me as nonchalantly as if you were popping a squat in the woods, not turning my entire world upside down!"

Now, I'm saying "something akin to" because I've only heard it from Derek. I don't really remember it much, nor do I remember most of what I said to him at that time. I was a little too werewolf and not enough Brooke. Oh well. I just hope that I got my point across.

Wiping away the blood from the underside of his nose, Derek sighed. "I checked up on you around midnight and again at three. You were doing the same exact thing both times."

"Oh yeah? What was I doing?" I threw back. Forgot to warn you guys, excessive sassiness expected from moi.

He closed his eyes and strained to say what he wanted to in a kinder way than he was going to. "You were climbing trees and chasing squirrels. Then you'd get depressed when they didn't want to play with you and you'd scratch your arms incessantly. Happy?"

"Well…" I muttered. It explained the scratches on my arms and the sap under my nails. And a clump of fur I found between my teeth, sans any blood.

"Trust me. If Scott wasn't trying to murder people I would've helped you more."

After hearing that, I felt a little silly. Okay… a lot silly. I was totally girling out on Derek when he actually had some serious problems to take care of. I wasn't used to feeling like that. Overprotective and needy. I just… I needed Derek more often than he was around.

I pressed my palms into my eyes and groaned. "I'm sorry… I just… I don't know. My brain isn't working right. I'm not some clingy bimbo I just- I don't know. I can't explain it."

Derek did not give my statement any acknowledgement. Not a word. He just ducked down and kissed me gently on the lips. I returned the kiss, short as it was, and smiled up at him. And he was giving me the closest thing to a smile he had. Not a frown. I'll accept that. It's rare to see Derek actually smile. After the ordeal with his sister and the Alpha was taken care of he'd smile a lot more. Until then, I'd just have to deal with the lack of frown meaning that he was happy. Just after we broke away I got up on my tiptoes and kissed him again. It was almost like he was my boyfriend but, come on, Derek Hale and boyfriend in the same sentence? Yeah. That feeling you're feeling? That's how I feel. It just doesn't fit.

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**Author's Note: Just letting you know, the chapter title is a play on "Sexy, Naughty, Bitchy, Me" by Tata Young. Teehee. And sorry for the delay! Just started a new story and I'm getting constant feedback for a finished story and my unfinished story _The Chase_. Don't read it right now. I'm fixing it. Making it readable. It's Godawful. Anyways, more Derek and Brooke, as sweet and innocent as it is. When it gets closer to the season one finale episode I'll tell you what I'm going to do in terms of SMEX. Lord take me now! xoxo, Momma Love**

**Keep the reviews comin'! Y'all are fantastic!**


	23. Chapter 22: A Prelude: Part Two

**Grease Monkey**

**Chapter Twenty-Two: A Prelude to Shit Hitting the Fan, Part II**

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Tada! Without further ado I present the second instalment of the Hitting the Fan with Shit saga! Short prelude, do not worry. Didn't exactly take long though, did it? _Story of my fucking life people_. But, actually, everything started out normal. Derek walked me through the woods to Scott's, I went to bed, I woke up. _Fini_.

Cue weird shit.

Apparently, Jackson Whittemore, the dumb ass, managed to piece together that Scott was a freaking werewolf (I do not know how these people find all of the correct information on Google in five seconds). It was the end of the day and I had received about thirty text messages from my dear pack mate. I had slept the day away, Derek was rooming with Stiles, Scott was adding Breaking & Entering and burglary to his rap sheet, and somewhere along the line… the Alpha's identity was revealed. Of course that was the most substantial information of the day, followed closely by my encounter with the Argents…

I'm getting confused; I'm jumping all over the place. Sorry, it's all one big blur in my mind, hard to tell it straight without getting lost or distracted. I feel like I joke around a lot but that doesn't cover up the fact that this was all absolutely terrifying. This part more than most. I headed out to the lacrosse game to support Stiles, it was going to be his first, but he was nowhere to be found.

This, of course, could only mean trouble. I wasn't at the game two seconds before Scott asked me to go find him. You can imagine the strength of my eye-roll. They hadn't even started! Well, I'm Brooke, everyone's go-to shit-fixer. So I hopped into my truck and drove back into town. I decided to sniff out Derek because if he wasn't with Stiles he might know where he was.

I found him in Stiles' jeep just outside of the Beacon Hills Long Term Care; he was on the phone with the kid, instructing him on where to go. I pulled up behind him and tapped on his window. He jumped a bit, probably expected that I was going to be a cop. Once he realized it was me he opened the door.

"Look, ask for Jennifer, she's been looking after my uncle." He said impatiently into the receiver.

'_Uncle? That's news to me_.' I shrugged while I listened.

On the other side, Stiles said, "Yeah, well, he's not here either."

"What?" Derek questioned, disbelief and confusion clear on that gruff face of his.

I leaned against the frame of the door. "How do you think I feel? I'm the last to know about any and all of this crap." The look I received demanded my silence. I crossed my eyes and stuck out my tongue to that.

"He's not here, he's gone, Derek." Stiles returned.

After a second or two of thought, realization broke out across Derek's usually stern face. "Stiles, get out of there _right now_, it's him; he's the Alpha! _Get out!_"

Once I heard that, I was running for the hospital, claws and fangs ready and willing to tear some flesh. I could hear Derek calling for me to get back into my truck, to which I yelled "_Chauvinist!_" over my shoulder without stopping. I wasn't going to let Stiles get mauled on my watch.

I burst through the door just as Derek caught up to me. He kept his nose sharp and agile, leading us down the right corridor and into the heat of battle. The first thing we saw, some upitty werewolf chick glaring down the hall. See? I was getting good at detecting my fellow wolf! So we came at her from the side and Derek gave her nose a nice whack with his elbow. Nice shot. I immediately telly for Stiles because he's all human and defenceless and crap… but then I saw the guy at the end of the hall. It took me a second to recognize him…

"That's not nice." He said. "She's my nurse."

"She's a psychotic bitch helping you kill people." Derek reiterated. He then looked to Stiles and me. "Get out of the way."

Stiles looked from me, to Peter, to Derek and managed to say; "Aw, damn…"

We both complied, sinking to the floor and staying off to the side. This allowed me to get a good look at Derek's Uncle Peter. "Oh my God…" I muttered, gawking up at the man while he exchanged words with his nephew and the two started to go at it.

"I can't believe it either." Stiles returned.

I looked at him in confusion. "How'd you know what I was going to say?"

He didn't dare take his eyes off the ferocious creatures in front of us. "Isn't it obvious? Fire-surviving coma patient turns out to be the Alpha werewolf? Who'd guess that?"

I shrugged. "I didn't even know he existed… as Peter Hale. He was simply the hunk who I was weirdly dreaming about for a month or so." I said a lot more nonchalantly than I should've. I also probably shouldn't have called him a 'hunk'… per say…

But while Derek was getting his ass handed to him I saw an opening. "Hey! Go! _Get out!_" I whispered loudly to Stiles with a shove, leaving me alone with my Alpha beating up my boy toy.

Peter bent down and wrapped his hand around his nephew's throat. I was about ready to intervene due to the fact that I was feeling in the need to completely murder the man, but he kicked me square in the face. Effectively putting my nose further into my skull. Bitch. I was momentarily incapacitated while Peter dragged Derek across the floor as he strangled him.

"My mind," He started, "my personality, were literally _burned_ out of me. I was driven by pure instinct." He then let go of Derek, sending him into the floor rather harshly, before pilfering through his nurse's pockets.

As he pulled out a pair of keys, Derek got back up. "_You want forgiveness?_" He snarled. He delivered a sharp punch to Peter's jaw which didn't seem to affect him at all. He grabbed hold of Derek's jacket and pulled him in for a headbutt. The force of one skull against another sent Derek back. He was no match for his adversary, unfortunately.

I didn't move to help him. Which was weird, considering it was the only thing I wanted to do the last few times Derek's gotten his ass kicked. I didn't know why, at the time, but it was quite strange. Ignore my confusion, I'll intervene eventually.

"I want understanding." Peter said, rectifying Derek's previous statement and kicking him right in the solar plexus. Derek fell onto his back and continued until he had flipped onto his front.

"Do you have _any_ idea what it was like for me during those years?" Peter asked.

Derek offered no response. He just spat some blood onto the floor.

"Slowly healing, cell by cell. Even more slowly coming back to consciousness." He continued. "Becoming an Alpha, taking that from Laura, pushed me over a plateau in the healing process. I can't help that."

Despite his explanation, Derek did not seem to feel any better. Injured and weak, he pulled himself back up anyway. He swung right, miss, he swung left, miss, he swung right, block, on last left hook and Peter grabbed his fist, crushing it and sending Derek back into the direction of the floor.

Once Derek was on his knee, Peter resumed his monologue. "I tried to tell you what was happening. I tried to warn you."

He spoke in such a kind voice it was hard to believe that he had been trying to murder an entire town for the past month or so. He let Derek's fist go only to reach around his back to grab hold of him by the waist of his jeans and the collar of his jacket. Then, with little to no effort at all, Peter sent him through the glass barrier of the nurse's station.

For whatever reason, I ran. There was no underlying need for me to protect him. Perhaps it was self-preservation that drove me out of there, but I digress. I saw Stiles on my way out and sort of guffawed. I thought he'd gotten out! I groaned loudly and grabbed hold of his skinny ankles and pulled him out the back. I gave him a shove towards his jeep and I went for my truck. We both peeled the fuck out of there towards the school; Scott needed to know who the Alpha was.

We arrived just as the game ended… wow, were we really gone that long? Stiles ran for the locker room and I waited out front. Big mistake on my part in the long run. I leaned against my truck and wiped away the blood from under my nose. Speaking of which, my nose was still in my brain. I don't know how I didn't notice that. I summoned some of my handy dandy werewolf chops, more than likely causing my eyes to glow, and forced my face to heal. I felt the cartilage dislodge from brain tissue, weird feeling, and I sneezed into my sleeve.

This would prove to be the death of me.

Little did I know that a few dozen feet to my right was the infamous Kate Argent. I heard her instruct Allison to go home with her parents because she had some things to do… I knew I was fucked. And there wasn't anyone I could run to. I tried to play it cool, like nothing had happened, but she was already walking towards me.

Now understand that I had no idea she was going to do what she did. She just walked up to me, jammed a syringe into my neck, and I slowly slipped away. No idea what happened after that, but I assume that she threw me into the passenger's seat of my pick-up, used my keys or jumpstarted it, and drove me off to her torture chamber dungeon. Because when I woke up I was face down in a dirt cell and heavy chain links cuffs held my wrists together, it was dark, it was musky, and some chick stood over me with the connectors for a car battery.

Kinky.

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**Author's Note: Short chapter is short! Sorry! And _sooooo_ sorry for the delay, and that this chapter sucks. This is now out of the way and more Derek and Brooke can happen. This was the only reason why I couldn't update because I have everything planned out until the beginning of Season Two. And can we talk about Season Three? _Ohh myyy Gooood, darlings, everything I've already had planned for Season Three is going to work perfectly._ And I'm so glad Cora is Derek's sister because I couldn't handle writing around a canon love interest. But you've already met the original character I'm throwing into Season Three as the main antagonist. Still, I hope you guys will be excited! xoxo, Momma Love**

**Keep the reviews coming! _Y'all are fantastic!_**


	24. Chapter 23: Hello, Dolly

**Grease Monkey**

** Chapter Twenty-Three: _Hello, Dolly_**

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"Wake up, come on girl, you're tougher than that."

I groaned at the voice I'd become so accustomed to. Miss Kate Argent. I'd been in my cell for all of… a few hours? I don't exactly wear a watch and, if you missed my earlier statement, my hands were cuffed behind my back. So I couldn't check the time if I was actually wearing one. I was still face down in the dirt. The people who came and went pretty much left me be while the drugs wore off. I assume it was some sort of wolfsbane or my body would've cleared it out by then.

I was about ready to try and sit up when someone splashed water in my face. "Yeah, real incentive to get off my ass!" I mumbled into the dirt as it turned to mud. I pushed myself up to my knees and flung my hair, now thoroughly soaked, back. Too bad my hair was too short to stay out of my face. "Oh I feel like a shampoo commercial." I continued in a completely sarcastic tone that was not in my best interest at the time, I didn't care.

"You've got some bite, I like you." Kate smirked, pointing a baton at me.

I fluttered my eyelashes at her. "Why Kate, you're a doll."

"So people tell me." She continued to smile. "It's Brooke, right?"

I snorted. "Kidnapping people and you don't even know their names? I think you should get a new profession."

She let out a chuckle. "Sorry, we only know you as Derek's _booty call_."

"More like baby-sitter." I muttered.

"Oh, no way. It's impossible to have any sort of pure thoughts with him around. I mean have you _seen_ those arms? They're _scrumptious_." She waved that baton thing around. "Kinda makes you think about the _rest_ of him, _if you know what I mean_."

"I'm a nun, sorry." I said in the same exact sarcastic tone that I'd been sporting.

Kate let out an honest to God laugh before coming over to me and tilting my chin up with the baton. "I said that you're cute, that doesn't mean I won't mark up that pretty face of yours." She threatened rather… threateningly. Honestly she sort of scared the shit out of me. I had no idea who she was; just that she was a hunter and possibly liked burning people alive. But that hadn't been proven yet.

Needless to say, I decided to dial back the shit to about 50%. "So you just start attacking girls like me in the street?"

"Girls, no. Werewolves, yes." She said with a look that dared me to refute the fact.

I smirked up at her. "Let's get right to it then, shall we?"

Kate returned my look. "We've had our eyes on you, Brooke. I know from personal experience that Mr. Derek Hale doesn't trust anyone, well aside from his dead sister, so when we saw you coming and going from his house at all hours of the night we thought you were worth looking into. Chris will be so excited to here that our suspicions were right!

"Too bad that when I tell him about this you'll already be dead."

'_Well that escalated quickly_.' I thought while sneering at her. "Has anyone ever told you how absolutely _charming_ you are?"

"Not in a while, no." Kate said before bringing down the baton across my cheek.

She hit me with enough force to send me to the ground. I landed hard on my side. "Oh that's the ticket." I coughed out with a good amount of blood. Sarcasm, my greatest defense until I learned to control my transformation. And believe me it would be a long time coming.

Kate crossed her arms and just… looked at me. "Oh, thought I'd let you know that no one's going to be looking for you." She smirked. "I've left messages with that kid from your hometown, Conner, that couple you've worked for, Melissa, everyone who'd really care that you were gone."

I scoffed. "Yeah, what'd you tell them? I decided to take a last minute trip to Guam?"

"No, no, your father left a voicemail. Letting me know all about your sister's wedding! Amber-Lynn. So, that's what I told them! You're going home to help with the celebration, nothing more, nothing less."

I let out a laugh. "I _really_ hope that they don't buy that. They all know I hate Amber."

"People, they're gullible." She shrugged. "Enough of that, I've got to know, how long have you been a werewolf?"

I rolled onto my back and debated telling her the truth. Bluff and pretend I'm some thousand year old werewolf that has ripped a thousand heads from a thousand shoulders or admit that I'm just a young pup. I saw no immediate danger from telling her outright, so I did.

Big mistake.

"Just bitten?" She clarified. I nodded. "Good! This'll make the next bit much more fun!"

Before I could question her she pulled something out of her back pocket, a tuft of some sort of herb. By the scent wafting off of it, it was highly dangerous, at least to me. She bent down and wrenched open my bloodied jaw, cramming whatever it was into my mouth and holding it shut. She kept her hand from allowing me air, meaning that I was forced to swallow whatever it was. It scratched my throat as it went down.

Once Kate freaking let me breathe again, I was wheezing, my brow was sweating, and I felt very uneasy. "What was that?" I asked in a tone that was huskier than usual. And I was a colic baby. Not to mention my voice was rough because of a different throat injury when I was a bit older. Another time, another time; the _fun_ was about to start.

"I just gave you a bit of wolfsbane." She said nonchalantly.

I'd never managed to puke on my own, but I gave it a shot.

Kate laughed. "It's not poisonous, well, not in the sense that it'll kill you."

"Then what's the point?" I wheezed and hacked.

She smirked coyly and said, "You'll see in a minute."

I was about ready to call her an idiot, when I felt the most God awful thing I had ever felt. _My freaking transformation_. She was forcing me to change. I glared up at her and muttered; "Fuck you."

That was my first day. Cheery, wasn't it? The next day wasn't so bad. She didn't try to make me transform again, that much was for certain. Said I'd become used to it; that it wouldn't hurt as much. No. She wanted to save that for when I was naughty. She decided that sending God knows how many volts into my skin was a better option. _Joy_.

I traded my helpless squirming position on the ground for an even more helpless spot chained to the bars of my cage. My hands were still locked tight behind me, not allowing me to crouch, to sit, so I was stuck standing. Leaving me to look passionately out the window while I sweated through the pain I was enduring. Being electrocuted every half a second wasn't the easiest feat to push through.

"I've got good news!" My torturer called from behind me. See, on the other side of the bars was another cell. No idea who they planned to put there, probably Derek or the Alpha, whoever they caught first. Sweat dribbled into my eyes and my teeth were practically glued together. I'd never been electrocuted prior to that day. My jaw being clenched was probably a symptom of being shocked into submission. _Joy_.

Kate pushed open the door and I saw my phone in her hand. _'Seriously?_' I thought to myself with a mental eye-roll. '_Is there no such thing as _privacy_ anymore?_'

"Somebody put down an offer on your place!" She said in a chipper tone.

'_Kill me_.' I thought miserably to myself. I wasn't exactly in the mood to talk seeing as I _was_ still being electrocuted at a constant rate of EVERY FREAKING SECOND.

"Oh, what happened to that ferocious bite of yours?" Kate whined while she played some game on my phone.

My jaw was locked, making speech a rather impossible thing. But I specialize in the impossible, don't I? I was barely able to get out, "My bite? I seem to have misplaced it. I think it's somewhere in your jugular. Come over here and I'll get it out so we can bicker and banter until the cows come home!"

Kate smirked. "Much better."

She held up her baton high and struck me across my bare stomach. Oh, and yeah, Kate seems to have a thing for bare skin. She had the electrodes from the thing electrocuting me attached to my abdomen. When I woke up that morning I found my flannel unbuttoned and my camisole… missing. I'm only slightly sure that she hadn't taken advantage of me in my vulnerable state.

Only slightly.

Things continued like this for a few days. We'd go back and forth a bit, but she mostly left me alone. Well… I was still being electrocuted for hours a day. I wasn't exactly going anywhere so I wasn't bothered. And then I tried to heal once. I swear Kate almost killed me right then and there. Well, one of her henchmen nearly did. She was busy elsewhere. He had ripped me from my spot on the bars and threw me onto the ground. Then he started beating the crud out of me. And it was a lengthy beating. I won't go into it.

Blow after blow he delivered to my face until one point I just sort of screamed, "_STOP_."

Surprisingly, he obeyed me.

"What the fuck did I do?!" I yelled and asked all in one breath.

He smirked. "Like you don't know."

"I _really don't_." I attempted to clarify. I was utterly confused.

"We saw you trying to heal. Thought you'd get away with it didn't you?" He said with a wag of his finger in my direction. "_Naughty_."

I rolled my eyes. "_Please_ don't say anything remotely similar to _naughty_ when we're alone and while I'm chained and shackled? And _please_ stop treating me like a lycanthrop expert because that's the one thing I sure as hell am not. I have no idea why you flipped out at me healing, I couldn't feel my tongue; I decided to do something about it."

"You really don't know." He chuckled to himself. "I'm sure Kate will love this."

The lady in question returned to my dungeon a few hours later. Her henchmen leaned into her and told her of his discovery; my complete ignorance to almost all werewolf facts. Kate let out a malicious laugh, damn bitch, and brandished her favorite torture implement, ze baton. You see that, I'm French now.

She walked right up to me and rested the baton against my cheek. "So, I hear you're an idiot."

I propped myself up onto my elbows and quirked an eyebrow at her. "Nice to see you, too!" I said in a, guess what, sarcastic way. Was there any other way to speak in such dire times? Yeah… I thought not.

"It's always nice to see me." Kate smiled, crouching down. "But you really don't know much about being a werewolf, do you?"

Though that warranted another sarcastic response, I only shook my head. Shockingly.

"No. Typical Derek."

I gave her another sarcastic look. "What do _you_ know about him?"

Kate bit her lip mischievously. "Oh, what _don't _I know?" She countered. "Hot, _tight_, bod, glorious ass, great kisser, wasn't that great in bed but eager to please. He was such a gem when we were together. So cute, nothing like he is now. But that's mostly my fault."

Finding out that she knew such intimate details of a man I seriously wanted to strip down and fuck furiously made me a little more than irritated. That, topped off with the slightest inclination that she'd done either mental or physical harm to him, didn't sit well with me. I glared at her angrily and resisted the urge to spit a glob of blood onto her shoes.

"Don't look at me like that!" Kate laughed. "I'm sure he's much better in the sack now."

I rolled my eyes. "Yeah, like I would know. Now, are you going to explain why your friend kicked the crap out of me or are you going to continue telling me about your sex life? I'm sure it's short but sweet." I smiled sarcastically.

Apparently I'd crossed some sort of line because she walked over to me and stepped on my throat. She applied quite a lot of pressure to my windpipe for a good minute before she let up. I rolled over and worked on breathing properly again. That glob of blood in my mouth ended up being spat onto the ground instead of Kate's open-toed shoes. Damn, I'd been saving it for her too.

"Remember who's in charge here, _Brooke_. I could kill you in a second." She glared down at me before hitting me across the back with her baton. I 'oomphed' and collapsed, putting me face first into my own blood. _Just perfect_.

I turned my head and looked up at her, my breath raspy and shallow. "Yeah, but you haven't."

"Because you entertain me. But that won't last long, I get bored easily." She continued.

My brow furrowed and my gaze intensified. The chances of me getting out of there alive were looking slimmer and slimmer. And my snarky replies were only going to get me into worse trouble. So I settled for keeping my trap shut. I rolled onto my back and worked on getting myself comfortable. No matter where I was, physically, my hands were always cuffed.

Kate looked like she was about to bring the power down on me when her phone rang.

'_Saved by the __**freaking bell**__._'

"What?" She barked into the receiver. After a few seconds, she smiled and said; "Good. I'll meet you there." She ended the call and looked down at me. "Good news! Derek and Jackson have been spotted. So, that means, they'll both be joining you soon! Every experience is better with company, wouldn't you say."

My breath hitched at the mention of the two boys. '_Jackson?_' I thought. '_Why is Jackson with him? And why do they care?_'

Kate clearly took my confusion for shock. She let out a menacing cackle. "Yes, that's right. We know about the other beta. Thought you could keep it a secret, could you? But all the while we were closing in on him." I just stared at her, not wanting to disagree or agree with her. "Don't do anything _naughty_ while I'm gone." She finished before picking up her .45 mm and striding out of there.

As I laid there, bleeding from my nose and mouth, sputtering in a puddle of blood, realization struck me. "_WAIT! WHY THE FUCK DID HE START WAILING ON ME?! TEEEEEEELL MEEEEEEEEE!_"

_Whoa_. _Chillax_ there _Loki_.

* * *

**Author's Note: Hey guys! Seventeen days? Is that better updating? I don't know... I wanted to write Kate well so I took my time. If you think that I completely botched her, hollah at me. I'll gladly do a revision! _Teen Wolf Season Three. Fuck that teacher. I'm going to have to write Brooke around a canon love-interest. Good thing I can mostly write the Season Three part mostly with her dealing with the Alphas and Peter._ ANYWAYS! I hope I kept you guys in suspense, AND! Time to reveal something I've had in my mind for awhile.**

**I'm going to have an "intermission" in two chapters in which I'm going to start a fic called _A Grease Monkey Intermission._ It'll be rated M and it'll be more explicit interactions between Brooke and Derek. I'm making it separate so people who don't want the graphic deets can just continue on with the T rated action! You can continue from Part A to Part B without loosing any information. There isn't going to be much plot there, just... fun. Oh, and it's going to be an imaginary week in between Season One and Season Two. If you want sexy time, keep your eye out! There will be a chapter dedicated here named INTERMISSION where I explain all of this again! :) We're almost to the end of Season One guys! _HOMESTRETCH!_ xoxo, Momma Love**

**Lycan Lover, don't worry, you're one of my most dedicated reviewers and you _never_ have to apologise for not reading! Everyone's busy, I sure know that I am!**

**Keep the reviews coming! _Y'all are fantastic!_**


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